1  UGRETIA  P.  HALE 
i_-     \^  u 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

Gift  of 
The  Margery  Hoffman  Smith  Trust 


. 


d    / 


XT " 


THE 


PETERKIN   PAPERS 


BY 


LUCRETIA    P.     HALE 


Illustrations 


EIGHTH   EDITION 


BOSTON  AND    NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  'COMPANY 


1894 


Copyright,    1880 
BY  JAMES    R.    OSGOOD    &    COMPANY 

and   1886 
BY   TICKNOR    &   COMPANY 

All  rights   reserved 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 
Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &  Company. 


THE    PETERKIN    PAPERS 


TO     MEGGIE 

(THE   DAUGHTER   OF   THE    LADY    FROM    PHILADELPHIA) 


TO    WHOM   THESE   STORIES    WERE  FIRST   TOLD 


PREFACE   TO   THE    SECOND    EDITION    OF   THE 
PETERKIN    PAPERS. 


THE  first  of  these  stories  was  accepted  by  Mr.  Howard  M. 
Ticknor  for  the  "Young  Folks."  They  were  afterwards  continued 
in  numbers  of  the  "St.  Nicholas." 

A  second  edition*  is  now  printed,  containing  a  new  paper, 
which  has  never  before  been  published,  "The  Peterkins  at  the 
Farm." 

It  may  be  remembered  that  the  Peterkins  originally  hesi- 
tated about  publishing  their  Family  Papers,  and  were  decided 
by  referring  the  matter  to  the  lady  from  Philadelphia.  A  little 
uncertain  whether  she  might  happen  to  be  at  Philadelphia,  they 
determined  to  write  and  ask  her. 

Solomon  John  suggested  a  postal-card.  Everybody  reads  a 
postal,  and  everybody  would  read  it  as  it  came  along,  and  see 
its  importance,  and  help  it  on.  If  the  lady  from  Philadelphia 
were  away,  her  family  and  all  her  servants  would  read  it,  and 
send  it  after  her,  for  answer. 


10  PREFACE   TO   SECOND  EDITION. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  thought  the  postal  a  bright  idea.  It  would 
not  take  so  long  to  write  as  a  letter,  and  would  not  be  so  ex- 
pensive. But  could  they  get  the  whole  subject  on  a  postal? 

Mr.  Peterkin  believed  there  could  be  no  difficulty,  there 
was  but  one  question :  — 

Shall   the   adventures   of   the    Peterkin   family   be  published? 

This  was  decided  upon,  and  there  was  room  for  each  of  the 
family  to  sign,  the  little  boys  contenting  themselves  with  rough 
sketches  of  their  india-rubber  boots. 

Mr.  Peterkin,  Agamemnon,  and  Solomon  John  took  the 
postal-card  to  the  post-office  early  one  morning,  and  by  the  after- 
noon of  that  very  day,  and  all  the  next  day,  and  for  many  days, 
came  streaming  in  answers  on  postals  and  in  letters.  Their 
card  had  been  addressed  to  the  lady  from  Philadelphia,  with  the 
number  of  her  street.  But  it  must  have  been'  read  by  their 
neighbors  in  their  own  town  post-office  before  leaving;  it  must 
have  been  read  along  its  way :  for  by  each  mail  came  piles  of  postals 
and  letters  from  town  after  town,  in  answer  to  the  question, 
and  all  in  the  same  tone :  "  Yes,  yes ;  publish  the  adventures  of 
the  Peterkin  family." 

"Publish   them,   of   course." 

And  in  time  came  the  answer  of  the  lady  from  Philadelphia :  — • 

"  Yes,   of  course ;   publish   them." 

This   is  why   they   were   published. 


CON  TENTS. 


PAGE 

THE  LADY  WHO  PUT  SALT  IN  HER  COFFEE      ...        13 
ABOUT  ELIZABETH  ELIZA'S  PIANO  .       k.        .        .        .        ,        21 

THE  PETERKINS   TRY  TO   BECOME  WISE        .        .      '„        .        24 
MRS.   PETERKIN  WISHES  TO  GO  TO   DRIVE    .        .        .        .29 

THE  PETERKINS  AT   HOME       .        .        .        ...        .        33 

WHY  THE  PETERKINS   HAD  A  LATE  DINNER       .        .        .        36 
THE  PETERKINS'   SUMMER   JOURNEY        .        .        .        .        .41 

THE  PETERKINS   SNOWED-UP   .        .        .        .        ...        48 

THE   PETERKINS   DECODE  TO   KEEP   A  Cow   ....        56 

THE   PETERKINS'   CHRISTMAS-TREE  .        .        .        .  .        63 

MRS.   PETERKIN'S   TEA-PARTY  . 72 

THE  PETERKINS   Too  LATE  FOR  THE  EXHIBITION  82 


12  CONTENTS. 

PACK 

THE  PETERKINS  CELEBRATE  THE  "FOURTH"       ...  90 

THE  PETERKINS'   PICNIC 104 

THE  PETERKINS'   CHARADES 114 

THE  PETERKINS  ARE  OBLIGED  TO  MOVE      .        .        .        .124 

THE  PETERKINS  DECIDE  TO  LEARN  THE  LANGUAGES          .  136 

MODERN  IMPROVEMENTS  AT  THE  PETERKINS'         .        .        .  148 

AGAMEMNON'S  CAREER      ........  160 

. 

THE  EDUCATIONAL  BREAKFAST        ......  172 

THE    PETERKINS    AT    THE     "  CARNIVAL    OF    AUTHORS  "    IN 

BOSTON 188 

« 

THE  PETERKINS  AT  THE  FARM                                       .        .  206 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE    LADY    WHO    PUT    SALT    IN    HER    COFFEE. 


HIS   was     Mrs.   Peterkin.      It    was    a    mis- 
take.    She   had  poured   out  a  delicious 
cup    of  coffee,  and,    just    as    she    was 
helping    herself   to    cream,    she    found 
she   had  put  in  salt   instead  of  sugar! 
It  tasted  bad.     What   should   she   do? 
Of  course   she  couldn't   drink  the   cof- 
fee;   so   she   called   in    the   family,   for 
she   was  sitting   at  a  late   breakfast  all   alone.     The   family 
came   in;   they  all  tasted,  and  looked,  and   wondered   what 
should   be   done,   and   all   sat   down    to   think. 

At  last  Agamemnon,  who  had  been  to  college,  said, 
'Why  don't  we  go  over  and  ask  the  advice  of  the 
chemist?"  (For  the  chemist  lived  over  the  way,  and 
was  a  very  wise  man.) 


14: 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


Mrs.    Peterkin    said,    "Yes,"   and    Mr.    Peterkin    said, 

"Very  well,"  and  all  the  chil- 
dren said  they  would  go  too. 
So  the  little  boys  put  on  their 
india-rubber  boots,  and  over 
they  went. 

Now  the  chemist   was  just 
trying    to    find    out    something 

which  should  turn  everything  it  touched  into  gold;  and 
he  had  a  large  glass  bottle  into  which  he  put  all 
kinds  of  gold  and  silver,  and 
many  other  valuable  things,  and 
melted  them  all  up  over  the  fire, 
till  he  had  almost  found  what  he 
wanted.  He  could  turn  things 
into  almost  gold.  But  just  now 
he  had  used  up  all  the  gold  that 
he  had  round  the  house,  and  gold 
was  high.  He  had  used  up  his 
wife's  gold  thimble  and  his  great-grandfather's  gold-bowed 
spectacles;  and  he  had  melted  up  the  gold  head  of  his 
great-great-grandfather's  cane;  and,  just  as  the  Peterkin 
family  came  in,  he  was  down  on  his  knees  before  his  wife, 
asking  her  to  let  him  have  her  wedding-ring  to  melt  up 
with  all  the  rest,  because  this  time  he  knew  he  should 
succeed,  and  should  be  able  to  turn  everything  into 
gold;  and  then  she  could  have  a  new  wedding-ring  of 
diamonds,  all  set  in  emeralds  and  rubies  and  topazes, 


THE  LADY   WHO  PUT  SALT  IN  HER   COFFEE.          15 

and   all    the   furniture    could    be   turned    into    the   finest   of 
gold. 

Now  his  wife  was  just  consenting  when  the  Peterkin 
family  burst  in.  You  can  imagine  how  mad  the  chemist 
was !  He  came  near  throwing  his  crucible  —  that  was 
the  name  of  his  melting-pot  —  at  their  heads.  But  he 
didn't.  He  listened  as  calmly  as  he  could  to  the  story 
of  how  Mrs.  Peterkin  had  put  salt  in  her  coffee. 

At  first  he  said  he  couldn't  do  anything  about  it; 
but  when  Agamemnon  said  they  would  pay  in  gold  if  he 
would  only  go,  he  packed  up  his  bottles  in  a  leather 
case,  and  went  back  with  them  all. 

First  he  looked  at  the  coffee,  and  then  stirred  it. 
Then  he  put  in  a  little  chlorate  of  potassium,  and  the 
family  tried  it  all  round;  but  it  tasted  no  better.  Then 
he  stirred  in  a  little  bichlorate 
of  magnesia.  But  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin  didn't  like  that.  Then  he 
added  some  tartaric  acid  and 
some  hypersulphate  of  lime. 
But  no;  it  was  no  better.  "I 
have  it!"  exclaimed  the  chem- 
ist,—  "a  little  ammonia  is  just  the  thing!"  No,  it  wasn't 
the  thing  at  all. 

Then  he  tried,  each  in  turn,  some  oxalic,  cyanic,  acetic, 
phosphoric,  chloric,  hyperchloric,  sulphuric,  boracic,  silicic, 
nitric,  formic,  nitrous  nitric,  and  carbonic  acids.  Mrs. 
Peterkin  tasted  each,  and  said  the  flavor  was  pleasant, 


16  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

but  not  precisely  that  of  coffee.  So  then  he  tried  a  little 
calcium,  aluminum,  barium,  and  strontium,  a  little  clear 
bitumen,  and  a  half  of  a  third  of  a  sixteenth  of  a  grain 
of  arsenic.  This  gave  rather  a  pretty  color;  but  still  Mrs. 
Peterkin  ungratefully  said  it  tasted  of  anything  but  coffee. 
The  chemist  was  not  discouraged.  He  put  in  a  little 
belladonna  and  atropine,  some  granulated  hydrogen,  some 
potash,  and  a  very  little  antimony,  finishing  off  with  a 
little  pure  carbon.  But  still  Mrs.  Peterkin  was  not  satis- 
fied. 

The  chemist  said  that  all  he  had  done  ought  to  have 
taken  out  the  salt.  The  theory  remained  the  same,  although 
the  experiment  had  failed.  Perhaps  a  little  starch  would 
have  some  effect.  If  not,  that  was  all  the  time  he  could 
give.  He  should  like  to  be  paid,  and  go.  They  were 
all  much  obliged  to  him,  and  willing  to  give  him  $1.37J 
in  gold.  Gold  was  now  2.69|,  so  Mr.  Peterkin  found 
in  the  newspaper.  This  gave  Agamemnon  a  pretty  little 
sum.  He  sat  himself  down  to  do  it.  But  there  was  the 
coffee!  All  sat  and  thought  awhile,  till  Elizabeth  Eliza 
said,  (t  "Why  don't  we  go  to  the  herb- woman?  "  Elizabeth 
Eliza  was  the  only  daughter.  She  was  named  after  her 
two  aunts,  —  Elizabeth,  from  the  sister  of  her  father;  Eliza, 
from  her  mother's  sister.  ]STow,  the  herb-woman  was  an 
old  woman  who  came  round  to  sell  herbs,  and  knew  a 
great  deal.  They  all  shouted  with  joy  at  the  idea  of 
asking  her,  and  Solomon  John  and  the  younger  children 
agreed  to  go  and  find  her  too.  The  herb- woman  lived 


THE  LADY   WHO  PUT  SALT  IN  HER   COFFEE. 


17 


down  at   the   very   end   of  the   street;    so   the   boys  put   on 

their  india-rubber  boots  again,    and   they  set   off.     It  was  a 

long   walk    through   the   village, 

but  they   came    at    last    to    the 

herb-woman's   house,  at  the  foot 

of    a     high     hill.      They     went 

through  her  little  garden.     Here 

she    had    marigolds    and    holly- 
hocks,   and   old   maids    and   tall 

sunflowers,    and     all     kinds     of 

sweet-smelling  herbs,  so  that  the 

air  was    full    of   tansy-tea    and 

elder-blow.  Over  the  porch  grew  a  hop-vine,  and  a  brandy- 
cherry  tree  shaded  the  door,  and 
a  luxuriant  cranberry-vine  flung 
its  delicious  fruit  across  the 
window.  They  went  into  a  small 
parlor,  which  smelt  very  spicy. 
All  around  hung  little  bags  full 
of  catnipr  and  peppermint,  and 
all  kinds  of  herbs;  and  dried 
stalks  hung  from  the  ceiling; 
and  on  the  shelves  were  jars 
of  rhubarb,  senna,  manna,  and 

the   like. 

But  there   was   no    little   old   woman.      She   had   gone 

up   into   the   woods   to   get   some  more  wild  herbs,  so  they 

all     thought     they     would     follow    her,  —  Elizabeth     Eliza, 


18 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


Solomon    John,    and    the   little   boys.     They    had   to    climb 

up  over  high  rocks,  and  in  among 
huckleberry-bushes  and  black- 
berry-vines. But  the  little  boys 
had  their  india-rubber  boots.  At 
last  they  discovered  the  little  old 
woman.  They  knew  her  by  her 
hat.  It  was  steeple-crowned, 
without  any  vane.  They  saw  her 
digging  with  her  trowel  round  a 
sassafras  bush.  They  told  her 
their  story,  —  how  their  mother 

had  put  salt  in  her  coffee,  and  how  the  chemist  had 
made  it  worse  instead  of  better,  and  how  their  mother 
couldn't  drink  it,  and  wouldn't  she  come  and  see  what 
she  could  do?  And  she  said  she  would,  and  took  up 
her  little  old  apron,  with  pockets  all  round,  all  filled 
with  everlasting  and  pennyroyal,  and  went  back  to  her 
house. 

There  she  stopped,  and  stuffed  her  huge  pockets  with 
some  of  all  the  kinds  of  herbs.  She  took  some  tansy  and 
peppermint,  and  caraway-seed  and  dill,  spearmint  and 
cloves,  pennyroyal  and  sweet  marjoram,  basil  and  rosemary, 
wild  thyme  and  some  of  the  other  time,  —  such  as  you 
have  in  clocks,  —  sappermint  and  oppermint,  catnip,  valerian, 
and  hop;  indeed,  there  isn't  a  kind  of  herb  you  can  think 
of  that  the  little  old  woman  didn't  have  done  up  in  her 
little  paper  bags,  that  had  all  been  dried  in  her  little 


THE  LADY   WHO  PUT  SALT  IN  HER   COFFEE.         19 

Dutch-oven.     She  packed  these  all  up,  and  then  went  back 
with  the  children,  taking  her  stick. 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Peterkin  was  getting  quite  impatient 
for  her  coffee. 

As  soon  as  the  little  old  woman  came  she  had  it  set 
over  the  fire,  and  began  to  stir  in  the  different  herbs. 
First  she  put  in  a  little  hop  for  the  bitter.  Mrs.  Peterkin 
said  it  tasted  like  hop-tea,  and  not  at  all  like  coffee. 
Then  she  tried  a  little  flagroot  and  snakeroot,  then  some 
spruce  gum,  and  some  caraway  and  some  dill,  some  rue 
and  rosemary,  some  sweet  marjoram  and  sour,  some  opper- 
mint  and  sappermint,  a  little  spearmint  and  peppermint, 
some  wild  thyme,  and  some  of  the  other  tame  time,  some 
tansy  and  basil,  and  catnip  and  valerian,  and  sassafras, 
ginger,  and  pennyroyal.  The  children  tasted  after  each 
mixture,  but  made  up  dreadful  faces.  Mrs.  Peterkin  tasted, 
and  did  the  same.  The  more  the  old  woman  stirred,  and 
the  more  she  put  in,  the  worse  it  all  seemed  to  taste. 

So  the  old  woman  shook  her  head,  and  muttered  a  few 
words,  and  said  she  must  go. 
She  believed  the  coffee  was 
bewitched.  She  bundled  up 
her  packets  of  herbs,  and  took 
her  trowel,  and  her  basket,  and  her  stick,  and  went  back 
to  her  root  of  sassafras,  that  she  had  left  half  in  the 
air  and  half  out.  And  all  she  would. take  for  pay  was 
five  cents  in  currency. 

Then    the    family   were    in    despair,   and    all    sat    and 


20 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


thought  a  gt*eat  while.  It  was  growing  late  in  the  day, 
and  Mrs.  Peterkin  hadn't  had  her  cup  of  coffee.  At  last 
Elizabeth  Eliza  said,  "They  say  that  the  lady  from 
Philadelphia,  who  is  staying  in  town,  is .  very  wise.  Sup- 
pose I  go  and  ask  her  what  is  best  to  be  done."  To 
this  they  all  agreed,  it  was  a  great  thought,  and  off 
Elizabeth  Eliza  went. 

She  told  the  lady  from  Philadelphia  the  whole 
story,  —  how  her  mother  had  put  salt  in  the  coffee;  how 
the  chemist  had  been  called  in;  how  he  tried  everything 
but  could  make  it  no  better;  and  how  they  went  for 
the  little  old  herb-woman,  and  how  she  had  tried  in 
vain,  for  her  mother  couldn't  drink  the  coffee.  The 
lady  from  Philadelphia  listened  very  attentively,  and 
then  said,  (*Why  doesn't  your  mother  make  a  fresh  cup 

of  coffee?"  Elizabeth  Eliza 
started  with  surprise.  Solo- 
mon John  shouted  with 
joy;  so  did  Agamemnon, 
who  had  just  finished  his 
sum;  so  did  the  little  boys, 
who  had  followed  on.  :c  Why 
didn't  we  think  of  that?" 

said  Elizabeth  Eliza;  and  they  all  went  back  to  their 
mother,  and  she  had  her  cup  of  coffee. 


ABOUT  ELIZABETH  ELIZAS  PIANO. 


21 


ABOUT    ELIZABETH    ELIZA'S    PIANO. 


LIZABETH  ELIZA  had  a  present  of  a 
piano,  and  she  was  to  take  lessons  of 
the  postmaster's  daughter. 

They  decided  to  have  the  piano  set 
across  the  window  in  the  parlor,  and  the 
carters  brought  it  in,  and  went  away. 

After  they   had  gone   the    family   all 
came   in   to  look  at  the   piano;    but  they 
found  the  carters  had  placed  it  with  its  back  turned  towards 
the  middle  of  the  room,  standing  close  against  the  window. 

How  could  Elizabeth  Eliza 
open  it?  How  could  she  reach 
the  keys  to  play  upon  it? 

Solomon  John  proposed 
that  they  should  open  the  win- 
dow, which  Agamemnon  could 
dx^with  his  long  arms.  Then 
Elizabeth  Eliza  should  go  round 
upon  the  piazza,  and  open  the 
piano.  Then  she  could  have 


22  THE   PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

her  music-stool   on   the   piazza,    and   play    upon   the    piano 
there. 

So  they  tried  this;  and  they  all  thought  it  was  a  very 
pretty  sight  to  see  Elizabeth  Eliza  playing  on  the  piano, 
while  she  sat  on  the  piazza,  with  the  honeysuckle  vines 
behind  her. 

It  was  very  pleasant,  too,  moonlight  evenings.  Mr. 
Peterkin  liked  to  take  a  doze  on  his  sofa  in  the  room; 
but  the  rest  of  the  family  liked  to  sit  on  the  piazza.  So 
did  Elizabeth  Eliza,  only  she  had  to  have  her  back  to 
the  moon. 

All  this  did  very  well  through  the  summer;  but, 
when  the  fall  came,  Mr.  Peterkin  thought  the  air  was  too 
cold  from  the  open  window,  and  the  family  did  not  want 
to  sit  out  on  the  piazza. 

Elizabeth   Eliza    practised    in   the    mornings   with    her 

cloak  on;  but  she  was  obliged  to 
give  up  her  music  in  the  even- 
ings the  family  shivered  so. 

One  day,  when  she  was  talk- 
ing with  the  lady  from  Philadel- 
phia, she  spoke  of  this  trouble. 
The  lady  from  Philadelphia 
looked  surprised,  and  then  said,  "But  why  don't  you  turn 
the  piano  round?" 

One  of  the  little  boys  pertly  said,  "It  is  a  square 
piano." 

But  Elizabeth  Eliza  went  home  directly,  and,  with  the 


ABOUT  ELIZABETH  ELIZAS  PIANO.  23 

help   of  Agamemnon  and   Solomon  John,  turned  the  piano 
round. 

"Why  did  we  not  think  of  that  before?"  said  Mrs. 
Peterkin.  "What  shall  we  do  when  the  lady  from  Phila- 
delphia goes  home  again? " 


24 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE    PETERKINS    TRY    TO    BECOME    WISE. 


HEY  were  sitting  round  the  break- 
fast-table, and  wondering  what  they 
should  do  because  the  lady  from 
Philadelphia  had  gone  away.  "  If," 
said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  "we  could  only 
be  more  wise  as  a  family ! "  How 
could  they  manage  it?  Agamemnon 
had  been  to  college,  and  the  children 

all  went  to  school;  but  still  as  a  family  they  were  not 
wise.  "It  comes  from  books,"  said  one  of  the  family. 
"People  who  have  a  great  many  books  are  very  wise." 
Then  they  counted  up  that  there  were  very  few  books 
in  the  house,  —  a  few  school- 
books  and  Mrs.  Peterkin's  cook- 
book were  all. 

"  That's  the  thing  ! "  said 
Agamemnon.  c  We  want  a  li- 
brary." 

:?  We   want   a  library !  "  said 

Solomon  John.     And  all  of  them 

exclaimed,  "  We  want  a  library !  " 

"Let  us  think  how  we  shall 


THE  PETERKINS    TRY  TO  BECOME    WISE. 


25 


get  one,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin.     w  I  have  observed  that   other 
people   think  a  great  deal  of  thinking." 

So  they  all  sat  and  thought  a  great  while. 

Then  said  Agamemnon,  "  I  will  make  a  library.  There 
are  some  boards  in  the  wood-shed,  and  I  have  a  hammer 
and  some  nails,  and  perhaps  we  can  borrow  some  hinges, 
and  there  we  have  our  library!  " 

They  were  all  very  much  pleased  at  the  idea. 

w  That's  the  bookcase 
part,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza; 
"but  where  are  the  books?" 

So  they  sat  and  thought 
a  little  while,  when  Solomon 
John  exclaimed,  w  I  will  make 
a  book!" 

They  all  looked  at  him 
in  wonder. 

*  Y  e  s ,"     said     Solomon 
John,  "books  will  make   us  wise,   but  first  I  must  make  a 
book." 

So  they  went  into  the  parlor,  and  sat  down  to  make 
a  book.  But  there  was  no  ink.  What  should  he  do  for 
ink?  Elizabeth  Eliza  said  she  had  heard  that  nutgalls 
and  vinegar  made  very  good  ink.  So  they  decided  to  make 
some.  The  little  boys  said  they  could  find  some  nutgalls 
up  in  the  woods.  So  they  all  agreed  to  set  out  and  pick 
some.  Mrs.  Peterkin  put  on  her  cape-bonnet,  and  the  little 
boys  got  into  their  india-rubber  boots,  and  off  they  went. 


26  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

The  nutgalls  were  hard  to  find.  There  was  almost 
everything  else  in  the  woods,  —  chestnuts  and  walnuts, 
and  small  hazel-nuts,  and  a  great  many  squirrels;  and  they 
had  to  walk  a  great  way  before  they  found  any  nutgalls. 
At  last  they  came  home  with  a  large  basket  and  two  nut- 
galls  in  it.  Then  came  the  question  of  the  vinegar.  Mrs. 
Peterkin  had  used  her  very  last  on  some  beets  they  had 
the  day  before.  "Suppose  we  go  and  ask  the  minister's 
wife,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza.  So  they  all  went  to  the  min- 
ister's wife.  She  said  if  they  wanted  some  good  vinegar 
they  had  better  set  a  barrel  of  cider  down  in  the  cellar, 
and  in  a  year  or  two  it  would  make  very  nice  vinegar.  But 
they  said  they  wanted  it  that  very  afternoon.  When  the 
minister's  wife  heard  this  she  said  she  should  be  very  glad 
to  let  them  have  some  vinegar,  and  gave  them  a  cupful  to 
carry  home. 

So  they  stirred  in  the  nutgalls,  and  by  the  time 
evening  came  they  had  very  good  ink. 

Then  Solomon  John  wanted  a 
pen.  Agamemnon  had  a  steel  one, 
kut  Solomon  John  said,  "Poets 
always  used  quills."  Elizabeth 
Eliza  suggested  that  they  should 
go  out  to  the  poultry-yard  and 
get  a  quill.  But  it  was  already  dark.  They  had,  how- 
ever, two  lanterns,  and  the  little  boys  borrowed  the 
neighbors'.  They  set  out  in  procession  for  the  poultry- 
yard.  When  they  got  there  the  fowls  were  all  at  roost, 


THE  PETERKINS    TRY  TO  BECOME    WISE. 


so  they  could  look  at  them  quietly.  But  there  were  no 
geese!  There  were  Shanghais,  and  Cochin-Chinas,  and 
Guinea  hens,  and  Barbary  hens,  and  speckled  hens,  and 
Poland  roosters,  and  bantams,  and  ducks,  and  turkeys, 
but  not  one  goose!  "No  geese  but  ourselves,"  said  Mrs. 
Peterkin,  wittily,  as  they  returned  to  the  house.  The 
sight  of  this  procession  roused  up  the  village.  "A  torch- 
light procession!"  cried  all  the  boys  of  the  town;  and 
they  gathered  round  the  house,  shouting  for  the  flag; 
and  Mr.  Peterkin  had  to  invite  them  in,  and  give  them 
cider  and  gingerbread,  before  he  could  explain  to  them 
that  it  was  only  his  family  visiting  his  hens. 

After  the  crowd  had  dis- 
persed Solomon  John  sat 
down  to  think  of  his  writing 
again.  Agamemnon  agreed  to 
go  over  to  the  bookstore  to 
get  a  quill.  They  all  went 
over  with  him.  The  book- 
seller was  just  shutting  up 
his  shop.  However,  he  agreed 
to  go  in  and  get  a  quill, 
which  he  did,  and  they  hur- 
ried home. 

So  Solomon  John  sat  down  again,  but  there  was  no 
paper.  And  now  the  bookstore  was  shut  up.  Mr.  Peterkin 
suggested  that  the  mail  was  about  in,  and  perhaps  he 
should  have  a  letter,  and  then  they  could  use  the  envelope 


28 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


to  write  upon.  So  they  all  went  to  the  post-office,  and 
the  little  boys  had  their  india-rubber  boots  on,  and  they 
all  shouted  when  they  found  Mr.  Peterkin  had  a  letter. 
The  postmaster  inquired  what  they  were  shouting  about; 
and  when  they  told  him  he  said  he  would  give  Solomon 
John  a  whole  sheet  of  paper  for  his  book.  And  they  all 

went  back   rejoicing. 

So  Solomon  John  sat 
down,  and  the  family  all  sat 
round  the  table  looking  at 
him.  He  had  his  pen,  his  ink, 
and  his  paper.  He  dipped 

his  pen  into  the  ink  and  held  it  over  the  paper, 
and  thought  a  minute,  and  then  said,  "But  I  haven't  got 
anything  to  say." 


MRS.    PETERKIN   WISHES    TO   GO    TO  DRIVE. 


29 


MRS.    PETERKIN    WISHES    TO    GO    TO    DRIVE. 


morning  Mrs.  Peterkin  was  feel- 
ing very  tired,  as  she  had  been 
having  a  great  many  things  to  think 
of,  and  she  said  to  Mr.  Peterkin,  "I 
believe  I  shall  take  a  ride  this  morn- 
ing!" 

And    the    little    boys    cried    out, 
"Oh,   may   we   go   too?" 

Mrs.  Peterkin  said  that  Elizabeth  Eliza  and  the  little 
boys  might  go. 

So  Mr.  Peterkin  had  the  horse  put  into  the  carryall, 
and  he  and  Agamemnon  went  off  to  their  business,  and 
Solomon  John  to  school ;  and  Mrs.  Peterkin  began  to 
get  ready  for  her  ride. 

She  had  some  currants  she  wanted  to  carry  to  old 
Mrs.  Twomly,  and  some  gooseberries  for  somebody  else, 
and  Elizabeth  Eliza  wanted  to  pick  some  flowers  to  take 
to  the  minister's  wife;  so  it  took  them  a  long  time  to 
prepare. 

The  little  boys  went  out  to  pick  the  currants  and 
the  gooseberries,  and  Elizabeth  Eliza  went  out  for  her 


30 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


flowers,  and  Mrs.  Peterkin  put  on  her  cape-bonnet,  and 
in  time  they  were  all  ready.  The.  little  boys  were  in 
their  india-rubber  boots,  and  they  got  into  the  carriage. 
Elizabeth  Eliza  was  to  drive;  so  she  sat  on  the 
front  seat,  and  took  up  the  reins,  and  the  horse  started 
off  merrily,  and  then  suddenly  stopped,  and  would  not 
go  any  farther. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  shook  the 
reins,  and  pulled  them,  and 
then  she  clucked  to  the  horse; 
and  Mrs.  Peterkin  clucked; 
and  the  little  boys  whistled 
and  shouted;  but  still  the  horse 
would  not  go. 

''We  shall  have  to  whip 
him,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza. 

Now   Mrs.   Peterkin   never 

liked  to  use  the  whip;  but,  as  the  horse  would  not  go, 
she  said  she  would  get  out  and  turn  his  head  the  other 
way,  while  Elizabeth  Eliza  whipped  the  horse,  and  when 
he  began  to  go  she  would  hurry  and  get  in. 

So   they   tried   this,   but   the   horse   would   not   stir. 
"Perhaps    we   have    too     heavy     a     load,"    said    Mrs. 
Peterkin,    as    she   got  in. 

So   they   took   out   the   currants    and    the    gooseberries 
and   the   flowers,   but   still   the   horse   would   not   go. 

One     of    the     neighbors,     from     the     opposite     house, 
looking   out  just    then,    called    out    to    them    to    try    the 


MRS.  PETERKIN   WISHES    TO    GO    TO  DRIVE.  31 

whip.     There    was    a   high   wind,    and   they    could  not  hear 
exactly   what   she    said. 

"I   have   tried   the   whip,"  said   Elizabeth   Eliza. 

"  She  says  '  whips,'  such  as  you  eat,"  said  one  of 
the  little  boys. 

''  We  might  make  those,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin, 
thoughtfully. 

:'We  have  got  plenty  of  cream,"  said  Elizabeth 
Eliza. 

'Yes,  let  us  have  some  whips,"  cried  the  little  boys, 
getting  out. 

And  the  opposite  neighbor  cried  out  something  about 
whips;  and  the  wind  was  very  high. 

So  they  went  into  the  kitchen,  and  whipped  up  the 
cream,  and  made  some  very  delicious  whips;  and  the 
little  boys  tasted  all  round,  and  they  all  thought  they 
were  very  nice. 

They  carried  some  out  to  the  horse,  who  swallowed 
it  down  very  quickly. 

:' That  is  just  what  he  wanted,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin; 
"  now  he  will  certainly  go ! " 

So  they  all  got  into  the  car- 
riage again,  and  put  in  the 
currants,  and  the  gooseberries, 
and  the  flowers;  and  Elizabeth 
Eliza  shook  the  reins,  and  they 
all  clucked;  but  still  the  horse  would  not  go! 

'We     must     either     give     up    our     ride,"     said    Mrs. 


32 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


Peterkin,  mournfully,   "or   else  send   over   to  the  lady  from 

Philadelphia,    and   see    what   she   will   say." 

The     little     boys     jumped     out     as    quickly    as     they 

could;    they    were   eager    to    go    and    ask    the    lady    from 

Philadelphia.     Elizabeth   Eliza   went   with   them,    while   her 

mother   took   the   reins. 

They  found  that  the   lady  from  Philadelphia   was   very 

ill    that   day,    and   was    in   her    bed.      But   when    she   was 

told  what  the  trouble  was  she  very  kindly  said  they  might 

draw  up  the  curtain  from  the 
window  at  the  foot  of  the 
bed,  and  open  the  blinds, 
and  she  would  see.  Then 
she  asked  for  her  opera- 
glass,  and  looked  through 
it,  across  the  way,  up  the 

street,  to  Mrs.  Peterkin's  door. 

After   she   had   looked  through    the   glass  she    laid  it 

down,   leaned    her   head   back    against  the   pillow,  for  she 

was   very   tired,  and   then    said,    f  Why  don't   you   unchain 

the   horse   from   the   horse-post? " 

Elizabeth    Eliza    and    the    little    boys    looked    at    one 

another,    and    then    hurried    back    to   the    house    and    told 

their   mother.     The   horse   was    untied,    and   they   all   went 

to   ride. 


THE  PETERKINS  AT  HOME. 


33 


THE    PETERKINS    AT    HOME. 


AT    DINNER. 

NOTHER  little  incident  occurred  in 
the  Peterkin  family.  This  was  at 
dinner-time. 

They  sat  down  to  a  dish  of 
boiled  ham,  Now  it  was  a  pecu- 
liarity of  the  children  of  the  family 
that  half  of  them  liked  fat,  and  half 
liked  lean.  Mr.  Peterkin  sat  down 
to  cut  the  ham.  But  the  ham  turned  out  to  be  a  very 
remarkable  one.  The  fat  and  the  lean  came  in  separate 
slices, —  first  one  of  lean,  then  one  of  fat,  then  two  slices  of 
lean,  and  so  on.  Mr.  Peterkin  began  as  usual  by  helping 
the  children  first,  according  to 
their  age.  Now  Agamemnon, 
who  liked  lean,  got  a  fat  slice; 
and  Elizabeth  Eliza,  who  pre- 
ferred fat,  had  a  lean  slice. 
Solomon  John,  who  could  eat 
nothing  but  lean,  was  helped 
to  fat,  and  so  on.  Nobody  had  what  he  could  eat. 


34  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

It  was  a  rule  of  the  Peterkin  family  that  no  one 
should  eat  any  of  the  vegetables  without  some  of  the 
meat;  so  now,  although  the  children  saw  upon  their  plates 
apple-sauce,  and  squash  and  tomato,  and  sweet  potato  and 
gour  potato,  not  one  of  them  could  eat  a  mouthful,  because 
not  one  was  satisfied  with  the  meat.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Peterkin,  however,  liked  both  fat  and  lean,  and  were 
making  a  very  good  meal,  when  they  looked  up  and  saw 
the  children  all  sitting  eating  nothing,  and  looking  dis- 
satisfied into  their  plates. 

<  What   is   the   matter   now  ? "    said   Mr.    Peterkin. 

But  the  children  were  taught  not  to  speak  at  table. 
Agamemnon,  however,  made  a  sign  of  disgust  at  his  fat, 
and  Elizabeth  Eliza  at  her  lean,  and  so  on;  and  they 
presently  discovered  what  was  the  difficulty. 

*  What   shall    be   done   now  ? "   said   Mrs.    Peterkin. 

They   all    sat   and   thought    for   a    little   while. 

At  last  said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  rather  uncertainly,  w  Sup- 
pose we  ask  the  lady  from  Philadelphia  what  is  best  to 
be  done." 

But  Mr.  Peterkin  said  he  didn't  like  to  go  to  her 
for  everything  ;  let  the  children  try  and  eat  their  dinner 
as  it  was. 

And  they  all  tried,  but  they  couldn't.  "Very  well, 
then,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  "let  them  go  and  ask  the  lady 
from  Philadelphia." 

"All  of  us?"  cried  one  of  the  little  boys,  in  the 
excitement  of  the  moment. 


THE  PETERKINS  AT  HOME. 


35 


w  Yes,"    said   Mrs.   Peterkin,    "  only  put  on  your   india- 
rubber  boots."     And   they   hurried   out   of  the   house. 

The  lady  from  Philadelphia  was  just  going  in  to  her 
dinner;  but  she  kindly  stopped 
in  the  entry  to  hear  what  the 
trouble  was.  Agamemnon  and 
Elizabeth  Eliza  told  her  all  the 
difficulty,  and  the  lady  from 
Philadelphia  said,  "But  why  don't 
you  give  the  slices  of  fat  to  those 
who  like  the  fat,  and  the  slices 
of  lean  to  those  who  like  the 
lean?" 

They   looked   at   one    another. 

Agamemnon  looked  at  Elizabeth  Eliza,  and  Solomon 
John  looked  at  the  little  boys.  w  Why  didn't  we  think 
of  that?"  said  they,  and  ran  home  to  tell  their  mother. 


THE    PETER  KIN   PAPERS. 


WHY    THE    PETERKINS    HAD    A    LATE    DINNER. 


'HE  trouble   was   in  the  dumb-waiter.      All 
had    seated    themselves    at    the    dinner- 
table,    and   Amanda   had   gone    to    take 
out  the   dinner   she    had   sent    up    from 
the   kitchen   on    the   dumb-waiter.      But 
something    was    the    matter;    she    could 
not  pull  it  up.      There  was   the   dinner, 
but  she  could  not   reach  it.      All   the   family,  in   turn,  went 
and    tried;    all  pulled   together   in   vain;    the    dinner  could 
not  be   stirred. 

w  No  dinner !  "  exclaimed  Agamemnon. 
"I  am  quite  hungry,"  said  Solomon  John. 
At   last  Mr.   Peterkin    said,    "  I   am   not   proud.     I  am 
willing  to  dine  in  the  kitchen." 

This  room  was  below  the  dining-room.  All  consented 
to  this.  Each  one  went  down,  taking  a  napkin. 

The  cook  laid  the  kitchen  table,  put  on  it  her  best 
table-cloth,  and  the  family  sat  down.  Amanda  went  to  the 
dumb-waiter  for  the  dinner,  but  she  could  not  move  it 
down. 

The  family  were  all  in  dismay.     There  was  the  dinner, 


WHY  THE  PETERKINS  HAD  A  LATE  DINNER.         37 

half-way    between   the   kitchen    and   dining-room,  and  there 
were  they  all  hungry  to  eat  it! 

"What  is  there  for 
dinner?  "  asked  Mr.  Peter- 
kin.  ^ 

"Roast  turkey,"  said 
Mrs.  Peterkin. 

Mr.  Peterkin  lifted  his 
eyes  to  the  ceiling. 

"Squash,  tomato,  potato,  and  sweet  potato,"  Mrs. 
Peterkin  continued. 

"  Sweet  potato !  "  exclaimed  both  the  little  boys. 

"I  am  very  glad  now  that  I  did  not  have  cranberry," 
said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  anxious  to  find  a  bright  point. 

"Let  us  sit  down  and  think  about  it,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin. 

"I  have  an  idea,"  said  Agamemnon,  after  a  while. 

"Let  us  hear  it,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin.  "Let  each  one 
speak  his  mind." 

"The  turkey,"  said  Agamemnon,  "must  be  just  above 
the  kitchen  door.  If  I  had  a  ladder  and  an  axe,  I  could 
cut  away  the  plastering  and  reach  it." 

"That  is  a  great  idea,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

"If  you  think  you  could  do  it,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin. 

f Would  it  not  be  better  to  have  a  carpenter?"  asked 
Elizabeth  Eliza. 

"A  carpenter  might  have  a  ladder  and  an  axe,  and 
I  think  we  have  neither,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

"  A    carpenter !     A    carpenter  I "   exclaimed   the   rest. 


38  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

It  was  decided  that  Mr.  Peterkin,  Solomon  John,  and 
the  little  boys  should  go  in  search  of  a  carpenter. 

Agamemnon  proposed  that,  meanwhile,  he  should  go 
and  borrow  a  book,  for  he  had  another  idea. 

"This  affair  of  the  turkey,"  he  said,  "  reminds  me  of 
those  buried  cities  that  have  been  dug  out,  —  Herculaneum, 
for  instance." 

"Oh,  yes,"  interrupted  Elizabeth  Eliza,  "and  Pom- 
peii." 

c  Yes,"    said    Agamemnon.     "  They    found    there    pots 

and  kettles.  Now,  I  should  like 
to  know  how  they  did  it;  and  I 
mean  to  borrow  a  book  and  read. 
I  think  it  was  done  with  a  pick- 


axe." 


So  the  party  set  out.  But  when  Mr.  Peterkin  reached 
the  carpenter's  shop  there  was  no  carpenter  to  be  found 
there. 

"He  must  be  at  his  house,  eating  his  dinner,"  sug- 
gested Solomon  John. 

"Happy  man,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Peterkin,  "he  has  a 
dinner  to  eat!  "  • 

They  went  to  the  carpenter's  house,  but  found  he 
had  gone  out  of  town  for  a  day's  job.  But  his  wife 
told  them  that  he  always  came  back  at  night  to  ring  the 
nine-o'clock  bell. 

"We  must  wait  till  then,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  with 
an  effort  at  cheerfulness. 


WHY   THE  PETERKINS  HAD  A  LATE  DINNER.          39 

At  home  he  found  Agamemnon  reading  his  book,  and 
all  sat  down  to  hear  of  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii. 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  question  arose  about  tea. 
Would  it  do  to  have  tea  when  they  had  had  no  dinner? 
A  part  of  the  family  thought  it  would  not  do;  the  rest 
wanted  tea. 

WI  suppose  you  remember  the  wise  lady  of  Philadel- 
phia, who  was  here  not  long  ago?"  said  Mr.  Peterkin. 

"  Oh,   yes,"    said   Mrs,    Peterkin. 

''Let  us  try  to  think  what  she  would  advise  us," 
said  Mr.  Peterkin. 

"I   wish    she    were    here,"   said   Elizabeth  Eliza. 

"I  think,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  "she  would  say,  let 
them  that  want  tea  have  it;  the  rest  can  go  without." 

So  they  had  tea,  and,  as  it  proved,  all  sat  down  to 
it.  But  not  much  was  eaten,  as  there  had  been  no 
dinner. 

When  the  nine-o'clock  bell  was  heard,  Agamemnon, 
Solomon  John,  and  the  little  boys  rushed  to  the  church 
and  found  the  carpenter. 

They  asked  him  to  bring  a  ladder,  axe,  and  pickaxe. 
As  he  felt  ii  might  be  a  case  of  fire  he  brought  also  his 
fire-buckets. 

When  the  matter  was  explained  to  him  he  went  into 
the  dining-room,  looked  into  the  dumb-waiter,  untwisted 
a  cord,  and  arranged  the  weight,  and  pulled  up  the  din- 
ner. 

There   was    a   family   shout. 


40  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

"The  trouble   was   in  the  weight,"    said  the    carpenter. 

"That  is  why  it  is  called  a  dumb-waiter/'  Solomon 
John  explained  to  the  little  boys. 

The   dinner  was   put  upon  the   table. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  frugally  suggested  that  they  might  now 
keep  it  for  next  day,  as  to-day  was  almost  gone,  and 
they  had  had  tea. 

But  nobody  listened.  All  sat  down  to  the  roast  tur- 
key, and  Amanda  warmed  over  the  vegetables. 

"Patient  waiters   are  no   losers,"   said  Agamemnon. 


THE  PETERKIN&  SUMMER  JOURNEY. 


41 


THE    PETERKINS'    SUMMER   JOURNEY. 


FACT,  it  was  their  last  summer's 
journey,  —  for  it  had  been  planned 
then;  but  there  had  been  so  many 
difficulties  it  had  been  delayed. 

The  first  trouble  had  been 
about  trunks.  The  family  did  not 
own  a  trunk  suitable  for  travelling. 
Agamemnon  had  his  valise, 
that  he  had  used  when  he  stayed  a  week  at  a  time  at 
the  academy;  and  a  trunk  had  been  bought  for  Elizabeth 
Eliza  when  she  went  to  the  seminary.  Solomon  John 
and  Mr.  Peterkin,  each  had  his  patent-leather  hand-bag. 
But  all  these  were  too  small  for  the  family.  And  the 
little  boys  wanted  to  carry  their  kite. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  suggested  her  grandmother's  trunk. 
This  was  a.  hair-trunk,  very  large  and  capacious.  It 
would  hold  everything  they  would  want  to  carry  except 
what  would  go  in  Elizabeth  Eliza's  trunk,  or  the  valise 
and  bags. 

Everybody  was  delighted  at  this  idea.  It  was  agreed 
that  the  next  day  the  things  should  be  brought  into  Mrs. 
Peterkin's  room  for  her  to  see  if  they  could  all  be  packed. 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


"If  we  can  get  along,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  " with- 
out having  to  ask  advice  I  shall  be  glad!" 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  "it  is  time  now  for  people 
to  be  coming  to  ask  advice  of  us." 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Peterkin  began  by  taking  out 

the  things  that  were  already 
in  the  trunk.  Here  were  last 
year's  winter  things,  and  not 
only  these,  but  old  clothes 
that  had  been  put  away, — 


Mrs.  Peterkin's  wedding- 
dress;  the  skirts  the  little 
boys  used  to  wear  before  they 
put  on  jackets  and  trousers. 

All  day  Mrs.  Peterkin  worked  over  the  trunk,  put- 
ting away  the  old  things,  putting  in  the  new.  She 
packed  up  all  the  clothes  she  could  think  of,  both  sum- 
mer and  winter  ones,  because  you  never  can  tell  what 
sort  of  weather  you  will  have. 

Agamemnon  fetched  his  books,  and  Solomon  John 
his  spy-glass.  There  were  her  own  and  Elizabeth  Eliza's 
best  bonnets  in  a  bandbox;  also  Solomon  John's  hats,  for 
he  had  an  old  one  and  a  new  one.  He  bought  a  new 
hat  for  fishing,  with  a  very  wide  brim  and  deep  crown; 
all  of  heavy  straw. 

Agamemnon  brought  down  a  large  heavy  dictionary, 
and  an  atlas  still  larger.  This  contained  maps  of  all  the 
countries  in  the  world. 


THE  PETERKINS'   SUMMER  JOURNEY. 


43 


WI  have  never  had  a  chance  to  look  at  them,"  he 
said;  "but  when  one  travels,  then  is  the  time  to  study 
geography." 

Mr.   Peterkin   wanted   to   take    his    turning-lathe.      So 
Mrs.   Peterkin   packed   his   tool-chest.      It   gave    her    some 
trouble,   for   it   came   to   her  just   as   she   had    packed    her 
summer  dresses.     At  first  she 
thought  it  would  help  to  smooth 
the   dresses,    and    placed  it  on 
top;    but   she    was    forced    to 
take  all   out,  and  set  it  at  the 
bottom.      This     was     not     so 
much   matter,    as   she  had   not 
yet    the    right   dresses   to   put 
in.     Both    Mrs.    Peterkin    and 

Elizabeth  Eliza  would  need  new  dresses  for  this  occasion. 
The  little  boys'  hoops  went  in;  so  did  their  india-rubber 
boots,  in  case  it  should  not  rain  when  they  started. 
They  each  had  a  hoe  and  shovel,  and  some  baskets,  that 
were  packed. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  called  in  all  the  family  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  second  day  to  see  how  she  had  succeeded. 
Everything  was  packed,  even  the  little  boys'  kite  lay 
smoothly  on  the  top. 

w  I  like  to  see  a  thing  so  nicely  done,"  said  Mr. 
Peterkin. 

The  next  thing  was  to  cord  up  the  trunk,  and  Mr. 
Peterkin  tried  to  move  it.  But  neither  he,  nor  Aga- 


44  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

memnon,    nor    Solomon    John    could    lift    it    alone,    or  all 
together. 

Here  was  a  serious   difficulty.     Solomon  John  tried  to 
make  light   of  it. 

"  Expressmen   could   lift  it.     Expressmen   were  used  to 
such   things." 

"But    we    did    not    plan    expressing     it,"     said    Mrs. 
Peterkin,   in  a   discouraged   tone. 

:?We   can  take   a  carriage,"   said   Solomon  John. 
WI  am    afraid  the   trunk   would  not  go   on    the    back 

of  a  car- 
r  i  a  g  e," 
said  Mrs. 
Peterkin. 
"The 
h  a  ckmaii 
could   not   lift  it,    either,"   said   Mr.    Peterkin. 

"People    do    travel    with   a  great    deal    of   baggage," 
said  Elizabeth   Eliza. 

"  And   with  very  large   trunks,"   said   Agamemnon. 
"  Still   they  are  trunks   that   can   be   moved,"   said  Mr. 
Peterkin,    giving    another   try   at  *  the    trunk   in   vain.       "  I 
am    afraid   we   must   give   it   up,"    he    said ;    "  it  would   be 
such   a   trouble   in   going   from   place   to   place." 

*We   .would    not    mind  if  we   got   it    to    the    place," 
said  Elizabeth   Eliza. 

"But    how   to    get    it    there?"    Mr.    Peterkin    asked, 
with   a   sigh. 


THE  PETERKIN&  SUMMER   JOURNEY.  45 

"  This  is  our  first  obstacle,"  said  Agamemnon ;  "  we 
must  do  our  best  to  conquer  it." 

"  What  is   an   obstacle?"   asked   the   little   boys. 

"It  is   the  trunk,"   said   Solomon  John. 

"Suppose  we  look  out  the  word  in  the  dictionary,9' 
said  Agamemnon,  taking  the  large  volume  from  the  trunk. 
*Ah,  here  it  is" —  And  he  read:  — 

" OBSTACLE,   an  impediment" 

'*  That  is  a  worse  word  than  the  other,"  said  one  of 
the  little  boys. 

"But  listen  to  this,"  and  Agamemnon  continued: 
"  Impediment  is  something  that  entangles  the  feet  ;  ob- 
stacle something  that  stands  in  the  way ;  obstruction., 
something  that  blocks  up  the  passage  ;  Jiinderance,  some- 
thing that  holds  back." 

"The   trunk   is  all  these,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  gloomily. 

"It  does  not  entangle  the  feet,"  said  Solomon  John, 
"for  it  can't  move." 

"  I   wish   it   could,"   said   the   little   boys    together. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  spent  a  day  or  two  in  taking  the 
things  out  of  the  trunk  and  putting  them  away. 

"At  least,."  she  said,'  "this  has  given  me  some  ex- 
perience in  packing." 

And  the  little  boys  felt  as  if  they  had  quite  been  a 
journey. 

But  the  family  did  not  like  to  give  up  their  plan. 
It  was  suggested  that  they  might  take  the  things  out 
of  the  trunk,  and  pack  it  at  the  station  ;  the  little  boys 


46  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

could  go  and  come  with  the  things.  But  Elizabeth  Eliza 
thought  the  place  too  public. 

Gradually  the  old  contents  of  the  great  trunk  went 
back  again  to  it. 

At  length  a  friend  unexpectedly  offered  to  lend  Mr. 
Peterkin  a  good-sized  family  trunk.  But  it  was  late  in  the 
season,  and  so  the  journey  was  put  off  from  that  summer. 

But  now  the  trunk  was  sent  round  to  the  house,  and  a 
family  consultation  was  held  about  packing  it.  Many  things 
would  have  to  be  left  at  home,  it  was  so  much  smaller 
than  the  grandmother's  hair-trunk.  But  Agamemnon  had 
been  studying  the  atlas  through  the  winter,  and  felt 
familiar  with  the  more  important  places,  so  it  would  not 
be  necessary  to  take  it.  And  Mr.  Peterkin  decided  to 
leave  his  turning-lathe  at  home,  and  his  tool-chest. 

Again  Mrs.  Peterkin  spent  two  days  in  accommodat- 
ing the  things.  With  great  care  and  discretion,  and  by 
borrowing  two  more  leather  bags,  it  could  be  accomplished. 
Everything  of  importance  could  be  packed  except  the  little 
boys'  kite.  What  should  they  do  about  that? 

The  little  boys  proposed  carrying  it  in  their  hands; 
but  Solomon  John  and  Elizabeth  Eliza  would  not  consent 
to  this. 

"I  do  think  it  is  one  of  the  cases  where  we  might 
ask  the  advice  of  the  lady  from  Philadelphia,"  said  Mrs. 
Peterkin,  at  last. 

"  She  has  come  on  here,"  said  Agamemnon,  w  and  we 
have  not  been  to  see  her  this  summer." 


THE  PETERKINS'    SUMMER  JOURNEY.  4% 

w  She  may  think  we  have  been  neglecting  her,"  sug- 
gested Mr.  Peterkin. 

The  little  boys  begged  to  be  allowed  to  go  and  ask 
her  opinion  about  the  kite.  They  came  back  in  high 
spirits. 

w  She  says  we  might  leave  this  one  at  home,  and 
make  a  new  kite  when  we  get  there,"  they  cried. 

*  What  a  sensible  idea ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Peterkin ; 
w  and  I  may  have  leisure  to  help  you." 

"We'll  take  plenty  of  newspapers,"  said  Solomon  John. 

"  And  twine,"  said  the  little  boys.  And  this  matter 
was  settled. 

The   question   then   was,    ''When   should   they   go?" 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE    PETERKINS    SNOWED-UP. 


KS.  PETERKUST  awoke  one  morning 
to  find  a  heavy  snow-storm  raging. 
The  wind  had  flung  the  snow  against 
the  windows,  had  heaped  it  up 
around  the  house,  and  thrown  it 
into  huge  white  drifts  over  the  fields, 
covering  hedges  and  fences. 
Mrs.  Peterkin  went  from  one  window  to  the  other  to 

Ifc 

look  out,  but  nothing  could  be  seen  but  the  driving 
storm  and  the  deep  white  snow.  Even  Mr.  Bromwick's 
house,  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  street,  was  hidden  by  the 
swift-falling  flakes. 

*  What  shall  I  do  about  it?  " 
thought  Mrs.  Peterkin.  "No 
roads  cleared  out!  Of  course 
there'll  be  no  butcher  and  no 
milkman ! " 

The  first  thing  to  be  done 
was  to  wake  up  all  the  family 
early;  for  there  was  enough  in  the  house  for  breakfast,  and 


THE  PETERKINS   SNOWED-UP. 


there    was   no   knowing   when    they    would    have   anything 
more  to  eat. 

It  was  best  to  secure  the 
breakfast  first. 

So  she  went  from  one  room 
to  the  other,  as  soon  as  it  was 
light,  waking  the  family,  and 
before  long  all  were  dressed  and 
downstairs. 

And  then  all  went  round  the 
house  to  see  what  had  happened. 

All  the  water-pipes  that  there  were  were  frozen.  The 
milk  was  frozen.  They  could  open  the  door  into  the  wood- 
house  ;  but  the  wood-house  door  into  the  yard  was  banked  up 

with  snow;  and  the  front  door, 
and  the  piazza  door,  and  the 
side  door  stuck.  Nobody  could 
get  in  or  out! 

Meanwhile,  Amanda,  the 
cook,  had  succeeded  in  making 
the  kitchen  fire,  but  had  dis- 
covered there  was  no  furnace 
coal. 

"The    furnace    coal    was    to 
have  come  to-day,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  apologetically.  : 

"Nothing  will  come  to-day,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  shiv- 
ering. 

But  a  fire  could  be  made  in  a  stove  in  the  dining-room. 


50  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

All    were   glad    to    sit    down    to    breakfast    and    hot 
coffee.     The   little   boys  were   much   pleased   to   have   rt ice- 
cream "   for   breakfast. 

'  When  we  get  a  little  warm,"  said  Mr. 
Peterkin,  "we  will  consider  what  is  to  be 
done." 

"I  am  thankful  I  ordered  the  sausages 
yesterday,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin.  "I  was  to 
have  had  a  leg  of  mutton  to-day." 

"Nothing  will  come  to-day,"  said  Aga- 
memnon, gloomily. 

"Are  these  sausages  the   last  meat  in   the 
house?"   asked    Mr.   Peterkin. 
"Yes,"   said   Mrs.    Peterkin. 

The  potatoes  also  were  gone,  the  barrel  of  apples 
empty,  and  she  had  meant  to  order  more  flour  that  very 
day. 

"Then  we  are  eating  our  last  provisions,"  said  Solo- 
mon John,  helping  himself  to  another  sausage. 

"  I  almost  wish  we  had  stayed  in  bed,"  said  Agamemnon. 
rc  I  thought  it  best  to  make  sure  of  our  breakfast  first," 
repeated  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

"Shall  we  literally  have  nothing  left  to  eat?"  asked  Mr. 
Peterkin. 

"There's   the   pig!"    suggested   Solomon   John. 
Yes,  happily,  the   pigsty  was  at  the  end  of  the    wood- 
house,    and   could   be  reached   under   cover. 

But   some    of  the   family   could   not   eat   fresh   pork- 


THE  PETERKINS    SNOWED-UP.  51 

"We  should  have  to  '  corn'  part  of  him,"  said  Aga- 
memnon. 

"My  butcher  has  always  told  me,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin, 
"that  if  I  wanted  a  ham  I  must  keep  a  pig.  Now  we 
have  the  pig,  but  have  not  the  ham!" 

"Perhaps  we  could  'corn'  one  or  two  of  his  legs," 
suggested  one  of  the  little  boys. 

"We  need  not  settle  that  now,"  said  Mr. 
Peterkin.  "At  least  the  pig  will  keep  us  from 
starving." 

The  little  boys  looked  serious;  they  were 
fond  of  their  pig. 

"If  we  had  only  decided  to  keep  a  cow," 
said  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

"  Alas !  yes,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  "  one  learns 
a  great  many  things  too  late ! " 

"  Then  we  might  have  had  ice-cream  all  the  time ! " 
exclaimed  the  little  boys. 

Indeed,  the  little  boys,  in  spite  of  the  prospect  of 
starving,  were  quite  pleasantly  excited  at  the  idea  of  being 
snowed-up,  and  hurried  through  their  breakfasts  that  they 
might  go  and  try  to  shovel  out  a  path  from  one  of  the  doors. 

"  I  ought  to  know  more  about  the  water-pipes,"  said 
Mr.  Peterkin.  "Now,  I  shut  off  the  water  last  night  in 
the  bath-room,  or  else  I  forgot  to;  and  I  ought  to  have 
shut  it  off  in  the  cellar." 

The  little  boys  came  back.  Such  a  wind  at  the  front 
door,  they  were  going  to  try  the  side  door. 


52  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

"Another  thing  I  have  learned  to-day,"  said  Mr. 
Peterkin,  "  is  not  to  have  all  the  doors  on  one  side  of  the 
house,  because  the  storm  blows  the  snow  against  all  the 
doors." 

Solomon  John  started   up. 

"Let  us  see  if  we  are  blocked  up  on  the  east  side 
of  the  house ! "  he  exclaimed. 

"Of  what  use,"  asked  Mr.  Peterkin,  "since  we  have 
no  door  on  the  east  side?" 

"We   could   cut   one,"    said   Solomon   John. 
*Yes,  we   could  cut   a   door,"    exclaimed   Agamemnon. 
"  But   how   can    we    tell    whether    there    is   any  ,snow 
there?"  asked  Elizabeth  Eliza,  —  "for  there  is  no  window." 
In   fact,   the   east   side  of  the   Peterkins'  house  formed 
a  blank   wall.     The   owner   had   originally   planned  a   little 
block    of    semi-detached    houses.     He    had    completed   only 
one,   very   semi   and   very   detached. 

"It  is  not  necessary  to  see,"  said  Agamemnon,  pro- 
foundly; "of  course,  if  the  storm  blows  against  this  side 
of  the  house,  the  house  itself  must  keep  the  snow  from 
the  other  side." 

"Yes,"  said  Solomon  John,  "there 
must  be  a  space  clear  of  snow  on  the 
east  side  of  the  house,  and  if  we  could 
open  a  way  to  that "  — 

"We   could    open    a    way   to    the 
butcher/'    said  Mr.  Peterkin,   promptly. 
Agamemnon    went    for    his     pick- 


THE  PETERKINS  SNO  WED-UP.  53 

axe.      He   had   kept  one   in  the   house   ever   since  the    ad- 
venture of  the  dumb-waiter. 

"What  part  of  the  wall  had  we  better  attack?" 
asked  Mr.  Peterkin. 

Mrs.    Peterkin   was    alarmed. 

"What  will  Mr.  Mudge,  the  owner  of  the  house, 
think  of  it?"  she  exclaimed.  "Have  we  a  right  to  injure 
the  wall  of  the  house  ?  " 

"It  is  right  to  preserve  ourselves  from  starving,"  said 
Mr.  Peterkin.  "  The  drowning  man  must  snatch  at  a 
straw ! " 

"It   is   better   that   he    should    find    his    house 
chopped  a  little  when  the  thaw  comes,"  said  Eliza- 
beth  Eliza,    "than    that    he    should   find   us    lying 
about  the  house,  dead  of  hunger,  upon  the   floor." 
Mrs.   Peterkin   was   partially   convinced. 
The  little  boys  came  in   to   warm  their  hands. 
They   had    not    succeeded     in    opening    the    side 
door,     and     were    planning     trying     to     open   the 
door  from  the  wood-house  to  the  garden. 

"That   would   be   of  no  use,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  "the 

butcher  cannot  get  into  the  gar- 
den." 

"But   we   might    shovel   off 
the  snow,"  suggested  one  of  the 
little   boys,    "and    dig    down    to 
some    of  last   year's    onions." 
Meanwhile,   Mr.   Peterkin,    Agamemnon,    and    Solomon 


THE  PETE  ERIN  PAPERS. 


John  had  been  bringing  together  their  carpenter's  tools, 
and  Elizabeth  Eliza  proposed  using  a  gouge,  if  they 
would  choose  the  right  spot  to  begin. 

The  little  boys  were  delighted  with  the 
plan,  and  hastened  to  find,  —  one,  a  little 
hatchet,  and  the  other  a  gimlet.  Even 
Amanda  armed  herself  with  a  poker. 

"It  would  be  better  to  begin  on  the 
ground  floor,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin. 

"Except  that  we  may  meet  with  a  stone 
foundation,"  said  Solomon  John. 

"If  the  wall  is  thinner  upstairs,"  said  Aga- 
memnon, "it  will  do  as  well  to  cut  a  window  as  a  door, 
and  haul  up  anything  the  butcher  may  bring  below  in 
his  cart." 

Everybody  began  to  pound  a  little  on  the 
wall  to  find  a  favorable  place,  and  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  noise.  The  little  boys  actually  cut 
a  bit  out  of  the  plastering  with  their  hatchet 
and  gimlet.  Solomon  John  confided  to  Elizabeth 
Eliza  that  it  reminded  him  of  stories  of  prisoners 
who  cut  themselves  free,  through  stone 
walls,  after  days  and  days  of  secret  labor. 

Mrs.  Peterkin,  even,  had  come  with  a  pair 
of  tongs  in  her  hand.  She  was  interrupted  by 
a  voice  behind  her. 

"Here's   your   leg   of  mutton,  marm!" 

It   was   the    butcher.     How   had   he   got    in? 


THE  PETERKINS  SNOWED-UP.  55 

"  Excuse  me,  inarm,  for  coming  in  at  the  side  door, 
but  the  back  gate  is  kinder  blocked  up.  You  were 
making  such  a  pounding  I  could  not  make  anybody 
hear  me  knock  at  the  side  door." 

"But  how  did  you  make  a  path  to  the  door?"  asked 
Mr.  Peterkin.  "You  must  have  been  working  at  it  a 
long  time.  It  must  be  near  noon  now." 

"I'm  about 
on  regular 
time/'  answer- 
ed the  butcher. 
"The  town 
t  e  am  has 

cleared   out   the   high   road,    and   the   wind   has  been  down 
the   last   half-hour.     The   storm   is    over." 

True  enough!  The  Peterkins  had  been  so  busy  inside 
the  house  they  had  not  noticed  the  ceasing  of  the  storm 
outside. 

"And  we  were  all  up  an  hour  earlier  than  usual," 
said  Mr.  Peterkin,  when  the  butcher  left.  He  had  not 
explained  to  the  butcher  why  he  had  a  pickaxe  in  his 
hand. 

"If  we  had  lain  abed  till  the  usual  time,"  said  Solo- 
mon John,  "we  should  have  been  all  right." 

"For  here  is  the  milkman!"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  as 
a  knock  was  now  heard  at  the  side  door. 

"It  is  a  good  thing  to  learn,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin, 
*not  to  get  up  any  earlier  than  is  necessary." 


56 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE  PETERKINS  DECIDE  TO  KEEP  A  COW. 


OT  that  they  were  fond  of  drinking 
milk,  nor  that  they  drank  very 
much.  But  for  that  reason  Mr. 
Peterkin  thought  it  would  be  well 
to  have  a  cow,  to  encourage  the 
family  to  drink  more,  as  he  felt  it 
would  be  so  healthy. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  recalled  the 
troubles  of  the  last  cold  winter,  and  how  near  they  came 
to  starving,  when  they  were  shut  up  in  a  severe  snow- 
storm, and  the  water-pipes  burst,  and  the  milk  was  frozen. 
If  the  cow-shed  could  open  out  of  the  wood-shed  such 
trouble  might  be  prevented. 

Tony  Larkin   was   to    come    over   and    milk    the    cow 

every  morning,  and  Agamemnon  and  Solomon  John  agreed 

to   learn  how   to   milk,    in   case    Tony    should   be   "  snowed 

up,"    or   have    the    whooping-cough    in    the    course    of    the 

winter.     The   little   boys   thought   they   knew   how   already. 

But   if    they   were   to    have    three   or    four   pailfuls    of 

milk  every  day  it  was  important  to  know  where  to  keep  it. 

"One    way   will    be,"    said    Mrs.    Peterkin,    "to   use   a 

great   deal    every   day.     We    will   make   butter." 


THE   PETERKINS   DECIDE    TO  KEEP  A    COW. 


57 


"That  will   be  admirable,"  thought  Mr.    Peterkin. 

"And   custards,"    suggested    Solomon   John. 

"And   syllabub,"    said   Elizabeth   Eliza. 

"And   cocoa-nut   cakes,"  exclaimed   the   little   boys. 

"We  don't  need  the  milk  for  cocoa-nut  cakes,"  said 
Mrs.  Peterkin. 

The  little  boys  thought  they  might 
have  a  cocoa-nut  tree  instead  of  a  cow. 
You  could  have  the  milk  from  the  cocoa- 
nuts,  and  it  would  be  pleasant  climbing  the 
tree,  and  you  would  not  have  to  feed  it. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  "we  shall 
have  to  feed  the  cow." 

:?  Where  shall  we  pasture  her?"  asked 
Agamemnon. 

"Up  on  the  hills,  up  on  the  hills,"  exclaimed  the 
little  boys,  "where  there  are  a  great  many  bars  to  take 
down,  and  huckleberry-bushes !  " 

Mr.  Peterkin  had  been  thinking  of  their  own  little 
lot  behind  the  house. 

"  But  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  "  but  the  cow  might  eat  off 
all  the  grass  in  one  day,  and  there  would  not  be  any  left  for 
to-morrow,  unless  the  grass  grew  fast  enough  every  night." 

Agamemnon  said  it  would  depend  upon  the  season. 
In  a  rainy  season  the  grass  would  come  up  very  fast, 
in  a  drought  it  might  not  grow  at  all. 

"I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  "that  is  the  worst 
of  having  a  cow,  —  there  might  be  a  drought." 


58 


THE  PETEHKIN  PAPERS. 


Mr.  Peterkin  thought  they  might  make  some  calcula- 
tion from  the  quantity  of  grass  in  the  lot. 

Solomon  John  suggested  that  measurements  might  be 
made  by  seeing  how  much  grass  the  Bromwicks'  cow, 
opposite  them,  eat  up  in  a  day. 

The  little  boys  agreed  to 
go  over  and  spend  the  day  on 
the  Bromwicks'  fence,  and  take 
an  observation. 

"The  trouble  would  be," 
said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  "that  cows 
walk  about  so,  and  the  Brom- 
wicks' yard  is  very  large.  Now 
she  would  be  eating  in  one 

place,  and  then  she  would  walk  to  another.  She  would 
not  be  eating  all  the  time;  a  part  of  the  time  she  would 
be  chewing." 

The     little    boys    thought    they    should     like     nothing 

better    than     to    have   some   sticks,   and   keep    the    cow  in 

one  corner   of  the   yard    till     the    calculations   were    made. 

But   Elizabeth  Eliza   was   afraid  the  Bromwicks  would 

not   like   it. 

"Of  course,  it  would  bring  all  the  boys  in  the 
school  about  the  place,  and  very  likely  they  would  make 
the  cow  angry." 

Agamemnon   recalled   that   Mr.  Bromwick  once  wanted 
to   hire   Mr.   Peterkin's   lot   for   his   cow. 
Mr.  Peterkin   started   up. 


THE   PETERKINS   DECIDE    TO  KEEP  A   COW. 


59 


"That  is  true;  and  of  course  Mr.  Bromwick  must 
have  known  there  was  feed  enough  for  one  cow." 

"And  the  reason  you  didn't  let  him  have  it,"  said 
Solomon  John,  "was  that  Elizabeth  Eliza  was  afraid  of 
cows." 

"I  did  not  like  the  idea,"  said 
Elizabeth  Eliza,  "of  their  cow's 
looking  at  me  over  the  top  of  the 
fence,  perhaps,  when  I  should  be 
planting  the  sweet  peas  in  the 
garden.  I  hope  our  cow  would  be 
a  quiet  one.  I  should  not  like  her 
jumping  over  the  fence  into  the 
flower-beds." 

Mr.  Peterkin  declared  that  he  should  buy  a  cow  of 
the  quietest  kind. 

"I  should  think  something  might  be  done  about 
covering  her  horns,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin;  "that  seems 
the  most  dangerous  part.  Perhaps  they  might  be  padded 
with  cotton." 

Elizabeth  Eliza  said  cows  were  built  so  large  and 
clumsy  that  if  they  came  at  you  they  could  not  help 
knocking  you  over. 

The  little  boys  would  prefer  having  the  pasture  a 
great  way  off.  Half  the  fun  of  having  a  cow  would  be 
going  up  on  the  hills  after  her. 

Agamemnon  thought  the  feed  was  not  so  good  on 
the  hills. 


60 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


:f  The  cow  would  like  it  ever  so  much  better,"  the  little 
boys  declared,  "  on  account  of  the  variety.  If  she  did  not 

like  the  rocks  and  the  bushes  she 
could  walk  round  and  find  the 
grassy  places." 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  said  Elizabeth 
Eliza,  "but  it  would  be  less  dan- 
gerous to  keep  the  cow  in  the  lot 
behind  the  house,  because  she 
would  not  be  coming  and  going, 
morning  and  night,  in  that  jerky 

way  the  Larkins'  cows  come  home.  They  don't  mind 
which  gate  they  rush  in  at.  I  should  hate  to  have  our  cow 
dash  into  our  front  yard  just  as  I  was  coming  home  of  an 
afternoon." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin;  "we  can  have  the 
door  of  the  cow-house  open  directly  into  the  pasture,  and 
save  the  coming  and  going." 

The  little  boys  were  quite  disappointed.  The  cow  would 
miss  the  exercise,  and  they  would  lose  a  great  pleasure. 

Solomon  John  suggested  that  they  might  sit  on  the 
fence  and  watch  the  cow. 

It  was  decided  to  keep  the  cow  in  their  own  pasture; 
and,  as  they  were  to  put  on  an  end  kitchen,  it  would  be 
perfectly  easy  to  build  a  dairy. 

The  cow  proved  a  quiet  one.  She  was  a  little  excited 
when  all  the  family  stood  round  at  the  first  milking,  and 
watched  her  slowly  walking  into  the  shed. 


THE   PETER  KINS  DECIDE    TO  KEEP  A   COW. 


61 


Elizabeth  Eliza  had  her  scarlet  sack  dyed  brown  a  fort- 
night before.  It  was  the  one  she  did  her  gardening  in, 
and  it  might  have  infuriated  the  cow.  And  she  kept  out 
of  the  garden  the  first  day  or  two. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  and 
Elizabeth  Eliza  bought  the 
best  kind  of  milk-pans,  of 
every  size. 

But  there  was  a  little 
disappointment  about  the 
taste  of  the  milk. 

The  little  boys  liked  it,  and  drank  large  mugs  of  it. 
Elizabeth  Eliza  said  she  could  never  learn  to  love  milk 
warm  from  the  cow,  though  she  would  like  to  do  her  best 
to  patronize  the  cow. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  afraid  Amanda  did  not  understand 
about  taking  care  of  the  milk;  yet  she  had  been  down  to 
overlook  her,  and  she  was  sure  the  pans  and  the  closet 
were  all  clean. 

"  Suppose  we  send  a  pitcher  of  cream  over  to  the  lady 
from  Philadelphia  to  try,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza;  ."it  will 
be  a  pretty  attention  before  she  goes." 

r?  It  might  be  awkward  if  she  didn't  like  it,"  said  Solo- 
mon John.  "  Perhaps  something  is  the  matter  with  the 
grass." 

"I  gave  the  cow  an  apple  to  eat  yesterday,"  said  one 
of  the  little  boys,  remorsefully. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  went  over,   and  Mrs.  Peterkin,  too,  and 


62  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

explained   all  to  the   lady  from  Philadelphia,   asking  her  to 
taste  the  milk. 

The  lady  from  Philadelphia  tasted,  and  said  the  truth 
was  that  the  milk  was  sour. 

"I  was  afraid  it  was  so,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin;  "but 
I  didn't  know  what  to  expect  from  these  new  kinds  of 
cows." 

The  lady  from  Philadelphia  asked  where  the  milk  was 
kept. 

"In   the   new   dairy,"   answered 
Elizabeth    Eliza. 

"Is  that  in  a  cool  place?"  asked 
the   lady   from   Philadelphia. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  explained  it  was 
close  by  the  new  kitchen. 

"Is  it  near  the  chimney?"  inquired  the  lady  from 
Philadelphia. 

"It  is  directly  back  of  the  chimney  and  the  new 
kitchen  range,"  replied  Elizabeth  Eliza.  "I  suppose  it  is 
too  hot!" 

"Well,  well!"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  "that  is  it!  Last 
winter  the  milk  froze,  and  now  we  have  gone  to  the 
other  extreme!  Where  shall  we  put  our  dairy?" 


THE  PETERKIN&    CHRISTMAS-TREE. 


THE    PETERKINS'    CHRISTMAS-TREE. 


AELY  in  the  autumn  the  Peterkins 
began  to  prepare  for  their  Christmas- 
tree.  Everything  was  done  in  great 
privacy,  as  it  was  to  be  a  surprise 
to  the  neighbors,  as  well  as  to  the 
rest  of  the  family.  Mr.  Peterkin  had 
been  up  to  Mr.  Bromwick's  wood-lot, 
and,  with  his  consent,  selected  the 

tree.     Agamemnon    went    to   look   at  it    occasionally   after 

dark,  and  Solomon  John  made  fre- 
quent visits  to  it  mornings,  just 

after    sunrise.      Mr.   Peterkin    drove 

Elizabeth   Eliza  and  her  mother  that 

way,  and  pointed  furtively  to  it  with 

his   whip;    but    none    of    them    ever 

spoke  of  it  aloud  to  each  other.     It 

was    suspected    that    the    little    boys 

had   been  to  see    it   Wednesday  and 

Saturday  afternoons.     But  they  came 

home     with     their     pockets     full     of 

chestnuts,  and  said  nothing  about  it. 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


At  length  Mr.  Peterkin  had  it   cut   down   and  brought 

secretly  into  the  Larkins'  barn. 
A  week  or  two  before  Christ- 
mas a  measurement  was  made 
of  it  with  Elizabeth  Eliza's 
yard-measure.  To  Mr.  Peter- 
kin's  great  dismay  it  was  dis- 
covered that  it  was  too  high 
to  stand  in  the  back  par- 
lor. 

This  fact  was  brought  out 

at    a    secret    council    of    Mr.    and    Mrs.    Peterkin,    Eliza- 
beth  Eliza,    and   Agamemnon. 

Agamemnon  suggested  that  it  might  be  set  up  slant- 
ing; but  Mrs.  Peterkin  was  very  sure  it  would  make  her 
dizzy,  and  the  candles  would  drip. 

But  a  brilliant  idea  came  to  Mr.  Peterkin.  He  pro- 
posed that  the  ceiling  of  the  parlor  should  be  raised  to 
make  room  for  the  top  of  the  tree. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  thought  the  space  would  need  to  be 
quite  large.  It  must  not  be  like  a  small  box,  or  you  could 
not  see  the  tree. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  WI  should  have  the  ceiling 
lifted  all  across  the  room;  the  effect  would  be  finer." 

Elizabeth  Eliza  objected  to  having  the  whole  ceiling 
raised,  because  her  room  was  over  the  back  parlor,  and 
she  would  have  no  floor  while  the  alteration  was  going 
on,  which  would  be  very  awkward.  Besides,  her  room 


THE  PETERKIN&   CHRISTMAS-TREE.  65 

was  not  very  high  now,  and,  if  the  floor  were  raised,  per- 
haps  she    could   not   walk   in   it   upright. 

Mr.  Peterkin  explained  that  he  didn't  propose  altering 
the  whole  ceiling,  but  to  lift  up  a  ridge  across  the  room 
at  the  back  part  where  the  tree  was  to  stand.  This  would 
make  a  hump,  to  be  sure,  in  Elizabeth  Eliza's  room;  but 
it  would  go  across  the  whole  room. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  said  she  would  not  mind  that.  It 
would  be  like  the  cuddy  thing  that  comes  up  on  the  deck 
of  a  ship,  that  you  sit  against,  only  here  you  would  not 
have  the  sea-sickness.  She  thought  she  should  like  it,  for 
a  rarity.  She  might  use  it  for  a  divan. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  thought  it  would  come  in  the  worn 
place  of  the  carpet,  and  might  be  a  convenience  in  making 
the  carpet  over. 

Agamemnon  was  afraid  there  would  be  trouble  in 
keeping  the  matter  secret,  for  it  would  be  a  long  piece  of 
work  for  a  carpenter;  but  Mr.  Peterkin  proposed  having 
the  carpenter  for  a  day  or  two,  for  a  number  of  other  jobs. 

One  of  them  was  to  make  all 
the  chairs  in  the  house  of  the  same 
height,  for  Mrs.  Peterkin  had  nearly 
broken  her  spine  by  sitting  down  in 
a  chair  that  she  had  supposed  was 
her  own  rocking-chair,  and  it  had 
proved  to  be  two  inches  lower.  The 
little  boys  were  now  large  enough 
to  sit  in  any  chair;  so  a  medium  was  fixed  upon  to  satisfy 


66  THE   PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

all  the  family,    and  the  chairs   were  made  uniformly  of  the 
same   height. 

On  consulting  the  carpenter,  however,  he  insisted 
that  the  tree  could  be  cut  off  at  the  lower  end  to  suit  the 
height  of  the  parlor,  and  demurred  at  so  great  a  change 
as  altering  the  ceiling.  But  Mr.  Peterkin  had  set  his  mind 
upon  the  improvement,  and  Elizabeth  Eliza  had  cut  her 
carpet  in  preparation  for  it. 

So  the  folding-doors  into  the  back  parlor  were  closed, 
and  for  nearly  a  fortnight  before  Christmas  there  was 
great  litter  of  fallen  plastering,  and  laths, 
and  chips,  and  shavings;  and  Elizabeth 
Eliza's  carpet  was  taken  up,  and  the 
furniture  had  to  be  changed,  and  one 
night  she  had  to  sleep  at  the  Brom- 
wicks',  for  there  was  a  long  hole  in  her 
floor  that  might  be  dangerous. 
All  this  delighted  the  little  boys.  They  could  not 
understand  what  was  going  on.  Perhaps  they  suspected  a 
Christmas-tree,  but  they  did  not  know  why  a  Christmas-tree 
should  have  so  many  chips,  and  were  still  more  astonished 
at  the  hump  that  appeared  in  Elizabeth  Eliza's  room.  It 
must  be  a  Christinas  present,  or  else  the  tree  in  a  box. 
Some  aunts  and  uncles,  too,  arrived  a  day  or  two 
before  Christmas,  with  some  small  cousins.  These  cousins 
occupvjd  the  attention  of  the  little  boys,  and  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  whispering  and  mystery,  behind  doors,  and 
under  the  stairs,  and  in  the  corners  of  the  entry. 


THE    PETERKINS'    CHRISTMAS-TREE.  67 

Solomon  John  was  busy,  privately  making  some  candles 
for  the  tree.  He  had  been  collecting  some  bayberries,  as 
he  understood  they  made  very  nice  candles,  so  that  it 
would  not  be  necessary  to  buy  any. 

The  elders  of  the  family  never  all  went  into  the  back 
parlor  together,  and  all  tried  not  to  see  what  was  going 
on.  Mrs.  Peterkin  would  go  in  with  Solomon  John,  or 
Mr.  Peterkin  with  Elizabeth  Eliza,  or  Elizabeth  Eliza  and 
Agamemnon  and  Solomon  John.  The  little  boys  and  the 
small  cousins  were  never  allowed  even  to  look  inside  the 
room. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  meanwhile  went  into  town  a  number 
of  times.  She  wanted  to  consult  Amanda  as  to  how  much 
ice-cream  they  should  need,  and  whether  they  could  make 
it  at  home,  as  they  had  cream  and  ice.  She  was  pretty 
busy  in  her  own  room;  the  furniture  had  to  be  changed, 
and  the  carpet  altered.  The  w  hump "  was  higher  than  she 
expected.  There  was  danger  of  bumping  her  own  head 
whenever  she  crossed  it.  She  had  to  nail  some  padding 
on  the  ceiling  for  fear  of  accidents. 

The  afternoon  before  Christmas,  Elizabeth  Eliza,  Solo- 
mon John,  and  their  father  collected  in  the  back  parlor 
for  a  council.  The  carpenters  had  done  their  work,  and 
the  tree  stood  at  its  full  height  at  the  back  of  the  room, 
the  top  stretching  up  into  the  space  arranged  for  it.  All 
the  chips  and  shavings  were  cleared  away,  and  it  stood 
on  a  neat  box. 

But  what  were   they  to  put  upon  the  tree? 


68 


THE  PETERKIN   PAPERS. 


Solomon  John  had  brought  in  his  supply  of  candles; 
but  they  proved  to  be  very  "stringy"  and  very  few  of 

them.     It  was  strange  how  many 
bayberries   it  took  to  make  a  few 
\V.  1  \  candles!      The      little     boys    had 

helped  him,  and  he  had  gathered 
as  much  as  a  bushel  of  bayberries. 
He  had  put  them  in  water,  and 
skimmed  off  the  wax,  according 
to  the  directions;  but  there  was 
so  little  wax! 

Solomon  John  had  given  the  little  boys  some  of  the 
bits  sawed  off  from  the  legs  of  the  chairs.  He  had  sug- 
gested that  they  should  cover  them  with  gilt  paper,  to 
answer  for  gilt  apples,  without  telling  them  what  they  were 
for. 

These  apples,  a  little  blunt  at  the  end,  and  the  candles, 
were  all  they  had  for  the  tree ! 

After  all  her  trips  into  town  Elizabeth  Eliza  had  for- 
gotten to  bring  anything  for  it. 

"I  thought  of  candies  and  sugar-plums,"  she  said; 
wbut  I  concluded  if  we  made  caramels  ourselves  we  should 
not  need  them.  But,  then,  we  have  not  made  caramels. 
The  fact  is,  that  day  my  head  was  full  of  my  carpet. 
I  had  bumped  it  pretty  badly,  too." 

Mr.  Peterkin  wished  he  had  taken,  instead  of  a  fir- 
tree,  an  apple-tree  he  had  seen  in  October,  full  of  red 
fruit. 


THE  PETERKIN&    CHRISTMAS-TREE. 


69 


vrtWtic 


"But  the  leaves  would  have  fallen  off  by  this  time," 
said  Elizabeth  Eliza. 

"  And  the  apples,  too,"  said 
Solomon  John. 

"It  is  odd  I  should  have 
forgotten,  that  day  I  went  in 
on  purpose  to  get  the  things," 
said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  musingly. 
"But  I  went  from  shop  to 
shop,  and  didn't  know  exactly 
what  to  get.  I  saw  a  great 
many  gilt  things  for  Christmas- 

trees;  but  I  knew  the  little  boys  were  making  the  gilt 
apples;  there  were  plenty  of  candles  in  the  shops,  but  I 
knew  Solomon  John  was  making  the  candles." 

Mr.  Peterkin  thought  it  was  quite  natural. 

Solomon  John  wondered  if  it  were  too  late  for  them 
to  go  into  town  now. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  could  not  go  in  the  next  morning,  for 
there  was  to  be  a  grand  Christmas  dinner,  and  Mr.  Peter- 
kin  could  not  be  spared,  and  Solomon  John  was  sure  he 
and  Agamemnon  would  not  know  what  to  buy.  Besides, 
they  would  want  to  try  the  candles  to-night. 

Mr.  Peterkin  asked  if  the  presents  everybody  had  been 
preparing  would  not  answer.  But  Elizabeth  Eliza  knew 
they  would  be  too  heavy. 

A  gloom  came  over  the  room.  There  was  only  a  flick- 
ering gleam  from  one  of  Solomon  John's  candles  that  he 
had  lighted  by  way  of  trial. 


70  THE  PETERKIN   PAPERS. 

Solomon  John  again  proposed  going  into  town.  He 
lighted  a  match  to  examine  the  newspaper  about  the  trains. 
There  were  plenty  of  trains  coming  out  at  that  hour,  but 
none  going  in  except  a  very  late  one.  That  would  not 
leave  time  to  do  anything  and  come  back. 

"We  could  go  in,  Elizabeth  Eliza  and  I,"  said 
Solomon  John,  wbut  we  should  not  have  time  to  buy 
anything.'' 

Agamemnon  was  summoned  in.  Mrs.  Peterkin  was 
entertaining  the  uncles  and  aunts  in  the  front  parlor.  Aga- 
memnon wished  there  was  time  to  study  up  something 
about  electric  lights.  If  they  could  only  have  a  calcium 
light!  Solomon  John's  candle  sputtered  and  went  out. 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  loud  knocking  at  the 
front  door.  The  little  boys,  and  the  small  cousins,  and 
the  uncles  and  aunts,  and  Mrs.  Peterkin,  hastened  to  see 
what  was  the  matter. 

The  uncles  and  aunts  thought  somebody's  house  must 
be  on  fire.  The  door  was  opened,  and  there  was  a  man, 
white  with  flakes,  for  it  was  beginning  to  snow,  and  he 
was  pulling  in  a  large  box. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  supposed  it  contained  some  of  Eliza- 
beth Eliza's  purchases,  so  she  ordered  it  to  be  pushed 
into  the  back  parlor,  and  hastily  called  back  her  guests 
and  the  little  boys  into  the  other  room.  The  little  boys 
and  the  small  cousins  were  sure  they  had  seen  Santa 
Glaus  himself. 

Mr.  Peterkin  lighted  the  gas.  The  box  was  ad- 
dressed to  Elizabeth  Eliza.  It  was  from  the  lady  from 


THE   PETERKINS'    CHRISTMAS-TREE.  7J 

Philadelphia  !  She  had  gathered  a  hint  from  Elizabeth 
Eliza's  letters  that  there  was  to  be  a  Christmas-tree,  and 
had  filled  this  box  with  all  that  would  be  needed. 

It  was  opened  directly.  There  was  every  kind  of 
gilt  hanging- thing,  from  gilt  pea-pods  to  butterflies  on 
springs.  There  were  shining  flags  and  lanterns,  and  bird- 
cages, and  nests  with  birds  sitting  on  them,  baskets  oi 
fruit,  gilt  apples  and  bunches  of  grapes,  and,  at  the 
bottom  of  the  whole,  a  large  box  of  candles  and  a  box 
of  Philadelphia  bonbons! 

Elizabeth    Eliza     and     Solomon     John     could    scarcely 
keep    from    screaming.       The    little    boys    and     the     small 
cousins    knocked    on 
the    folding-doors    to 
ask     what     was     the 
matter. 

Hastily    Mr. 
Peterkin       and      the 
rest     took    out   the   things    and     hung    them   on    the   tree, 
and    put     on     the    candles. 

When  all  was  done,  it  looked  so  well  that  Mr. 
Peterkin  exclaimed:  — 

''Let  us  light  the  candles  now,  and  send  to  invite 
all  the  neighbors  to-night,  and  have  the  tree  on  Christ- 
mas Eve!" 

And  so  it  was  that  the  Peterkins  had  their  Christ- 
mas-tree the  day  before,  and  on  Christmas  night  could 
go  and  visit  their  neighbors. 


THE   PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


MRS.    PETERKIN'S    TEA-PARTY. 


WAS  important  to  have  a  tea-party, 
as  they  had  all  been  invited  by 
everybody,  —  the  Bromwicks,  the 
Tremletts,  and  the  Gibbonses.  It 
would  be  such  a  good  chance  to 
pay  off  some  of  their  old  debts, 
now  that  the  lady  from  Philadelphia 
was  back  again,  and  her  two  daugh- 
ters, who  would  be  sure  to  make  it  all  go  off  well. 

But  as  soon  as  they  began  to  make  out  the  list 
they  saw  there  were  too  many  to  have  at  once,  for  there 
were  but  twelve  cups  and  saucers  in  the  best  set, 

5  There  are  seven  of  us,  to  begin  with,"  said  Mr. 
Peterkin. 

:?We   need   not   all   drink   tea,"   said   Mrs.   Peterkin. 
w  I   never   do,"    said    Solomon   John.       The   little   boys 
never   did. 

w  And  we  could  have  coffee,  too,"  suggested  Eliza- 
beth Eliza. 

"That  would  take  as  many  cups,"  objected  Aga- 
memnon. 

"We    could    use   the    every-day    set    for    the    coffee," 


MRS.    PETERKIN'S    TEA-PARTY. 


73 


answered  Elizabeth  Eliza;  "they  are  the  right  shape. 
Besides,"  she  went  on,  "  they  would  not  all  come.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bromwick,  for  instance;  they  never  go  out." 

:?  There  are  but 
six  cups  in  the  every- 
day set,"  said  Mrs. 
Peterkin. 

The  little  boys 
said  there  were  plenty 
of  saucers;  and  Mr. 

Peterkin  agreed  with  Elizabeth  Eliza  that  all  would  not 
come.  Old  Mr.  Jeffers  never  went  out. 

"There  are  three  of  the  Tremletts,"  said  Elizabeth 
Eliza;  "they  never  go  out  together.  One  of  them,  if  not 
two,  will  be  sure  to  have  the  headache.  Ann  Maria 
Bromwick  would  come,  and  the  three  Gibbons  boys,  and 
their  sister  Juliana;  but  the  other  sisters  are  out  West, 
and  there  is  but  one  Osborne." 

It  really  did  seem  safe  to  ask  "  everybody."  They 
would  be  sorry,  after  it  was  over,  that  they  had  not 
asked  more. 

?  We  have  the  cow,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  "  so  there 
will  be  ^as  much  cream  and  milk  as  we  shall  need." 

"  And  our  own  pig,"  said  Agamemnon.  "  I  am  glad 
we  had  it  salted;  so  we  can  have  plenty  of  sand- 
wiches." 

"I  will  buy  a  chest  of  tea,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Peterkin, 
rfl  have  been  thinking  of  a  chest  for  some  time." 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


Mrs.  Peterkin  thought  a  whole  chest  would  not  be 
needed;  it  was  as  well  to  buy  the  tea  and  coffee  by 

the  pound.  But  Mr.  Peter- 
kin  determined  011  a  chest  of 
tea  and  a  bag  of  coffee. 

So   they  decided   to   give 
the  invitations  to  all.    It  might 
be     a     stormy     evening,    and 
some   would  be   prevented. 
The    lady    from    Philadelphia    and    her    daughters    ac- 
cepted. 

And  it  turned  out  a  fair  day,  and  more  came  than 
were  expected.  Ann  Maria  Bromwick  had  a  friend  stay- 
ing with  her,  and  brought  her  over,  for  the  Bromwicks 
were  opposite  neighbors.  And  the  Trem- 
letts  had  a  niece,  and  Mary  Osborne  an 
aunt,  that  they  took  the  liberty  to  bring. 
The  little  boys  were  at  the  door,  to 
show  in  the  guests,  and  as  each  set  came 
to  the  front  gate  they  ran  back  to  tell  their  mother  that 
more  were  coming.  Mrs.  Peterkin  had  grown  dizzy  with 
counting  those  who  had  come,  and  trying  to  calculate  how 
many  were  to  come,  and  wondering  why  there  were  always 
more  and  never  less,  and  whether  the  cups  would  go 
round. 

The  three  Tremletts  all  came,  with  their  niece.  They 
all  had  had  their  headaches  the  day  before,  and  were  having 
that  banged  feeling  you  always  have  after  a  headache;  so 


MRS.    PETERKIN'S    TEA-PARTY.  75 

they  all  sat  at  the  same  side  of  the  room  on  the  long 
sofa. 

All  the  Jefferses  came,  though  they  had  sent  un- 
certain answers.  Old  Mr.  Jeffers  had  to  tie  helped  in, 
with  his  cane,  by  Mr.  Peterkin. 

The  Gibbons  boys  came,  and  would  stand  just  out- 
side the  parlor  door.  And  Juliana  appeared  afterward,  with 
the  two  other  sisters,  unexpectedly  home  from  the  West. 

"Got  home  this  morning!"  they  said.  "And  so  glad 
to  be  in  time  to  see  everybody,  —  a  little  tired,  to  be 
sure,  after  forty-eight  hours  in  a  sleeping-car!" 

"Forty-eight!"  repeated  Mrs.  Peterkin;  and  wondered 
if  there  were  forty- eight  people,  and  why  they  were  all 
so  glad  to  come,  and  whether  all  could  sit  down. 

Old  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bromwick  came.  They  thought 
it  would  not  be  neighborly  to  stay  away.  They  insisted 
on  getting  into  the  most  uncomfortable  seats. 

Yet  there  seemed  to  be  seats  enough  while  the 
Gibbons  boys  preferred  to  stand.  But  they  never  could 
sit  round  a  tea-table.  Elizabeth  Eliza  had  thought  they 
all  might  have  room  at  the  table,  and  Solomon  John  and 
the  little  boys  could  help  in  the  waiting. 

It  was  a  great  moment  when  the  lady  from  Phila- 
delphia arrived  with  her  daughters.  Mr.  Peterkin  was 
talking  to  Mr.  Bromwick,  who  was  a  little  deaf.  The 
Gibbons  boys  retreated  a  little  farther  behind  the  parlor 
door.  Mrs.  Peterkin  hastened  forward  to  shake  hands 
with  the  lady  from  Philadelphia,  saying:  — 


76  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

"Four  Gibbons  girls  and  Mary  Osborne's  aunt, — • 
that  makes  nineteen;  and  now" — 

It  made  no  difference  what  she  said;  for  there  was 
such  a  murmuring  of  talk  that  any  words  suited.  And 
the  lady  from  Philadelphia  wanted  to  be  introduced  to 
the  Brom wicks. 

It  was  delightful  for  the  little  boys.  They  came  to 
Elizabeth  Eliza,  and  asked:  — 

"  Can't  we  go  and  ask  more?  Can't  we  fetch  the 
Larkins  ?  " 

"Oh,  dear,  no!"  answered  Elizabeth  Eliza.  "I  can't 
even  count  them." 

Mrs.  Peterkin  found  time  to  meet  Elizabeth  Eliza  in  the 
side  entry,  to  ask  if  there  were  going  to  be  cups  enough. 

"I  have  set  Agamemnon  in  the  front  entry  to  count," 
said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  putting  her  hand  to  her  head. 

The  little  boys  came  to  say  that  the  Maberlys  were 
coming. 

"The  Maberlys!"  exclaimed  Elizabeth  Eliza.  "I  never 
asked  them." 

"It  is  your  father's  doing,"  cried  Mrs.  Peterkin.  "I  do 
believe  he  asked  everybody  he  saw ! "  And  she  hurried 
back  to  her  guests. 

"What  if  father  really  has  asked  everybody?"  Elizabeth 
Eliza  said  to  herself,  pressing  her  head  again  with  her  hand. 

There  were  the  cow  and  the  pig.  But  if  .they  all  took 
tea  or  coffee,  or  both,  the  cups  could  not  go  round. 

Agamemnon  returned  in  the  midst  of  her  agony. 


1 

3 


MRS.    PETERKIN'S    TEA-PARTY.  77 

He  had  not  been  able  to  count  the  guests,  they  moved 
about  so,  they  talked  so;  and  it  would  not  look  well  to 
appear  to  count. 

"What  shall  we  do?"  exclaimed  Elizabeth  Eliza. 

*  We   are   not   a   family   for  an  emergency,"  said   Aga- 
memnon. 

*  What   do   you   suppose    they   did   in   Philadelphia    at 
the   Exhibition,   when   there   were   more   people    than    cups 
and  saucers?"  asked   Elizabeth  Eliza.     " Could  not   you  go 
and  inquire?     I  know  the  lady  from  Philadelphia  is  talking 
about   the   Exhibition,    and  telling  how  she  stayed   at  home 
to  receive  friends.     And  they  must  have  had  trouble  there! 
Could  not  you  go  in  and  ask,  just  as  if  you  wanted  to  know?" 

Agamemnon  looked  into  the  room,  but  there  were  too 
many  talking  with  the  lady  from  Philadelphia. 

"  If  we  could  only  look  into  some  book,"  he  said,  — 
"the  encyclopaedia  or  the  dictionary;  they  are  such  a 
help  sometimes !  " 

At  this  moment  he  thought  of  his  "  Great  Triumphs  of 
Great  Men,"  that  he  was  reading  just  now.  He  had  not 
reached  the  lives  of  the  Stephensons,  or  any  of  the  men 
of  modern  times.  He  might  skip  over  to  them,  —  he  knew 
they  were  men  for  emergencies. 

He  ran  up  to  his  room,  and  met  Solomon  John  coming 
down  with  chairs. 

'  That  is  a  good  thought,"  said  Agamemnon.  "  I  will 
bring  down  more  upstairs  chairs." 

"No,"  said  Solomon  John,  "here  are  all  that  can  come 


78  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

down;  the  rest  of  the  bedroom  chairs  match  bureaus,  and 
they  never  will  do!  " 

Agamemnon  kept  on  to  his  own  room,  to  consult  his 
books.  If  only  he  could  invent  something  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  —  a  set  of  bedroom  furniture,  that  in  an  emer- 
gency could  be  turned  into  parlor  chairs!  It  seemed  an 
idea;  and  he  sat  himself  down  to  his  table  and  pencils, 
when  he  was  interrupted  by  the  little  boys,  who  came  to 
tell  him  that  Elizabeth  Eliza  wanted  him. 

The  little  boys  had  been  busy  thinking.  They  pro- 
posed that  the  tea-table,  with  all  the  things  on,  should 
be  pushed  into  the  front  room,  where  the  company  were; 
and  those  could  take  cups  who  could  find  cups. 

But  Elizabeth  Eliza  feared  it  would  not  be  safe  to 
push  so  large  a  table;  it  might  upset,  and  break  what 
china  they  had. 

Agamemnon  came  down  to  find  her  pouring  out  tea, 
in  the  back  room.  She  called  to  him :  — 

"Agamemnon,  you  must  bring  Mary  Osborne  to  help, 
and  perhaps  one  of  the  Gibbons  boys  would  carry 
round  some  of  the  cups." 

And  so  she  began  to  pour  out,  and  to  send  round 
the  sandwiches,  and  the  tea,  and  the  coffee.  Let  things 
go  as  far  as  they  would! 

The   little   boys   took   the    sugar   and   cream. 

"As  soon  as  they  have  done  drinking  bring  back 
the  cups  and  saucers  to  be  washed,"  she  said  to  the 
Gibbons  boys  and  the  little  boys. 


MRS.    PETERKIN'S    TEA-PARTY.  79 

This    was    an   idea   of  Mary    Osborne's. 

But  what  was  their  surprise  that  the  more  they 
poured  out  the  more  cups  they  seemed _  to  have!  Eliza- 
beth Eliza  took  the  coffee,  and  Mary  Osborne  the  tea. 
Amanda  brought  fresh  cups  from  the  kitchen. 

"I  can't  understand  it,"  Elizabeth  Eliza  said  to 
Amanda.  "Do  they  come  back  to  you  round  through  the 
piazza?  Surely  there  are  more  cups  than  there  were!" 

Her  surprise  was  greater  when  some  of  them  proved 
to  be  coffee-cups  that  matched  the  set!  And  they  never 
had  had  coffee-cups. 

Solomon  John  came  in  at  this  moment,  breathless 
with  triumph. 

"Solomon  John!"  Elizabeth  Eliza  exclaimed;  "I  can- 
not understand  the  cups!  " 

"It  is  my  doing,"  said  Solomon  John,  with  an  elevated 
air.  "I  went  to  the  lady  from  Philadelphia,  in  the  midst 
of  her  talk.  'What  do  you  do  in  Philadelphia,  when  you 
haven't  enough  cups?'  ?  Borrow  of  my  neighbors,'  she 
answered,  as  quick  as  she  could." 

"  She   must  have  guessed,"  interrupted  Elizabeth  Eliza. 

"That  may  be,"  said  Solomon  John.  "But  I  whis- 
pered to  Ann  Maria  Bromwick,  —  she  was  standing  by, 
—  and  she  took  me  straight  over  into  their  closet,  and 
old  Mr.  Bromwick  bought  this  set  just  where  we  bought 
ours.  And  they  had  a  coffee-set,  too "  — 

*You  mean  where  our  father  and  mother  bought 
them.  We  were  not  born,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza. 


80  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

"It  is  all  the  same/'  said  Solomon  John.  "They 
match  exactly." 

So   they   did,    and   more    and   more    came   in. 

Elizabeth   Eliza    exclaimed:  — 

"  And  Agamemnon  says  we  are  not  a  family  for  emer- 
gencies ! " 

"Ann  Maria  was  very  good  about  it,"  said  Solomon 
John;  "and  quick,  too.  And  old  Mrs.  Bromwick  has  kept 
all  her  set  of  two  dozen  coffee  and  tea  cups ! " 

Elizabeth  Eliza  was  ready  to  faint  with  delight  and 
relief.  She  told  the  Gibbons  boys,  by  mistake,  instead  of 
Agamemnon  and  the  little  boys.  She  almost  let  fall  the 
cups  and  saucers  she  took  in  her  hand. 

"  No   trouble   now !  " 

She  thought  of  the  cow,  and  she  thought  of  the  pig, 
and  she  poured  on. 

No  trouble,  except  about  the  chairs.  She  looked  into 
the  room;  all  seemed  to  be  sitting  down,  even  her  mother. 
No,  her  father  was  standing,  talking  to  Mr.  Jeffers.  But 
he  was  drinking  coffee,  and  the  Gibbons  boys  were  hand- 
ing things  around. 

The  daughters  of  the  lady  from  Philadelphia  were  sit- 
ting on  shawls  on  the  edge  of  the  window  that  opened 
upon  the  piazza.  It  was  a  soft,  warm  evening,  and  some 
of  the  young  people  were  on  the  piazza.  Everybody  was 
talking  and  laughing,  except  those  who  were  listening. 

Mr.  Peterkin  broke  away,  to  bring  back  his  cup  and 
another  for  more  coffee. 


MRS.    PETERKIN'S    TEA-PARTY.  81 

"It's  a  great  success,  Elizabeth  Eliza/'  he  whispered. 
"The  coffee  is  admirable,  and  plenty  of  cups.  We  asked 
nono  too  many.  I  should  not 
mind  having  a  tea-party  every 
week." 

Elizabeth  Eliza  sighed  with 
relief  as  she  filled  his  cup.  It 
was  going  off  well.  There  were  cups  enough,  but  she 
was  not  sure  she  could  live  over  another  such  hour  of 
anxiety;  and  what  was  to  be  done  after  tea? 


82 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE    PETERKINS  TOO   LATE   FOR  THE   EXHIBITION. 


Dramatis  Personce.  — Amanda  (friend  of  Elizabeth  Eliza),  Amanda's  mother,  girls 
of  the  graduating  class,  Mrs.  Peterkin,  Elizabeth  Eliza. 

AMANDA    [coming  in  with   a  few  graduates]. 

* 
OTHER,  the  exhibition  is  over,  and  I 

have  brought  the  whole  class  home 
to  the  collation. 

MOTHER.  —  The     whole     class ! 
But   I   only   expected   a   few. 

AMANDA.  —  The   rest   are  com- 
ing.    I    brought   Julie,    and    Clara, 
and   Sophie   with   me.     [A   voice  is 
heard.]     Here  are  the  rest. 

MOTHER.  —  Why,    no.     It  is  Mrs.  Peterkin   and  Eliza- 
beth Eliza! 

AMANDA.  —  Too  late  for  the  exhibition.     Such  a  shame ! 
But  in   time   for   the   collation. 

MOTHER  \to  herself] .  —  If  the  ice-cream  will  go  round. 

AMANDA. — But   what    made    you   so    late?     Did    you 

miss   the   train?     This  is  Elizabeth  Eliza,  girls, — you  have 

heard    me   speak    of   her.     What    a    pity    you    were    too 

late! 


TOO  LATE  FOR   THE  EXHIBITION.  83 

MRS.  PETERKIN. —  We  tried  to  come;  we  did  our 
best. 

MOTHER.  —  Did  you  miss  the  train?  Didn't  you  get 
my  postal-card? 

MRS.  PETERKIN. —  We  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
train. 

AMANDA.  —  You   don't  mean   you  walked? 

MRS.   PETERKIN. —  Oh,   no,   indeed! 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  We  came  in  a  horse  and  carry- 
all. 

JULIA. — I  always  wondered  how  anybody  could  come 
in  a  horse ! 

AMANDA.  —  You  are  too  foolish,  Julie.  They  came  in 
the  carryall  part.  But  didn't  you  start  in  time? 

MRS.  PETERKIN.  —  It  all  comes  from  the  carryall 
being  so  hard  to  turn.  I  told  Mr.  Peterkin  we  should 
get  into  trouble  with  one  of  those  carryalls  that  don't 
turn  easy. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  They  turn  easy  enough  in  the 
stable,  so  you  can't  tell. 

MRS.  PETERKIN. — Yes;  we  started  with  the  little  boys 
and  Solomon  John  on  the  back  seat,  and  Elizabeth  Eliza 
on  the  front.  She  was  to  drive,  and  I  was  to  see  to  the 
driving.  But  the  horse  was  not  faced  toward  Boston. 

MOTHER.  —  And  you  tipped  over  in  turning  round! 
Oh,  what  an  accident! 

AMANDA.  —  And  the  little  boys,  —  where  are  they? 
Are  they  killed? 


84  THE  PETERKIN   PAPERS. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  The  little  boys  are  all  safe.  "We 
left  them  at  the  Pringles',  with  Solomon  John. 

MOTHER.  —  But  what  did  happen? 

MRS.  PETERKIN.  —  We  started  the  wrong  way. 

MOTHER.  —  You  lost  your  way,  after  all? 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  No;  we  knew  the  way  well 
enough. 

AMANDA.  —  It's  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff! 

MRS.  PETERKIN.  —  No;  we  had  the  horse  faced  in  the 
wrong  direction,  —  toward  Providence. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  And  mother  was  afraid  to  have 
me  turn,  and  we  kept  on  and  on  till  we  should  reach  a 
wide  place. 

MRS.  PETERKIN.  —  I  thought  we  should  come  to  a  road 
that  would  veer  off  to  the  right  or  left,  and  bring  us  back 
to  the  right  direction. 

MOTHER.  —  Could  not  you  all  get  out  and  turn  the 
thing  round? 

MRS.  PETERKIN.  —  Why,  no ;  if  it  had  broken  down 
we  should  not  have  been  in  anything,  and  could  not  have 
gone  anywhere. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  Yes,  I  have  always  heard  it  was 
best  to  stay  in  the  carriage,  whatever  happens. 

JULIA.  —  But  nothing  seemed  to  happen. 

MRS.  PETERKIN.  —  Oh,  yes;  we  met  one  man  after  an- 
other, and  we  asked  the  way  to  Boston. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  And  all  they  would  say  was, 
"Turn  right  round, — you  are  on  the  road  to  Providence.'1 


TOO   LATE  FOR    THE  EXHIBITION.  85 

MRS.  PETERKIN.  —  As  if  we  could  turn  right  round! 
That  was  just  what  we  couldn't. 

MOTHER.  —  You  don't  mean  you  kept  on  all  the  way 
to  Providence? 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  Oh,  dear,  no !  We  kept  on  and  on, 
till  we  met  a  man  writh  a  black  hand-bag,  —  black  leather, 
I  should  say. 

JULIA.  —  He  must  have  been  a  book-agent. 

MRS.  PETERKIN. —  I  dare  say  he  was;  his  bag  seemed 
heavy.  He  set  it  on  a  stone. 

MOTHER.  —  I  dare  say  it  was  the  same  one  that  came 
here  the  other  day.  He  wanted  me  to  buy  the  "  History 
of  the  Aborigines,  Brought  up  from  Earliest  Times  to  the 
Present  Date,"  in  four  volumes.  I  told  him  I  hadn't  time 
to  read  so  much.  He  said  that  was  no  matter,  few  did, 
and  it  wasn't  much  worth  it;  they  bought  books  for  the 
look  of  the  thing. 

AMANDA.  —  Now,  that  was  illiterate ;  he  never  could 
have  graduated.  I  hope,  Elizabeth  Eliza,  you  had  nothing 
to  do  with  that  man. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  Very  likely  it  was  not  the  same 
one. 

MOTHER.  —  Did  he  have  a  kind  of  pepper-and-salt  suit, 
with  one  of  the  buttons  worn? 

MRS.  PETERKIN.  — I  noticed  one  of  the  buttons  was 
off. 

AMANDA.  —  We're  off  the  subject.  Did  you  buy  his 
book? 


86  THE  PETE  REIN  PAPERS. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  He   never   offered  us   his   book. 
MRS.    PETERKLN\  —  He   told   us    the  same    story,  —  we 
were  going  to  Providence  ;  if  we  wanted  to  go  to  Boston 
we   must   turn   directly   round. 

ELIZABETH    ELIZA.  —  I    told    him   I    couldn't;   but    he 
took  the   horse's   head,   and  the   first  thing   I   knew  — 
AMAJSDA. —  He   had   yanked   you   round! 
MRS.   PETERKIX. — I   screamed;    I   couldn't   help   it! 
ELIZABETH   ELIZA.  —  I   was    glad  when,  it   was    over ! 
MOTHER. —  Well,   well;    it   shows   the    disadvantage   of 
starting   wrong. 

MRS.  PETERKIN.  —  Yes,  we  came  straight  enough 
when  the  horse  was  headed  right;  but  we  lost  time. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  — I  am  sorry  enough  I  lost  the 
exhibition,  and  seeing  you  take  the  diploma,  Amanda.  I 
never  got  the  diploma  myself.  I  came  near  it. 

MRS.  PETERKIN. —  Somehow,  Elizabeth  Eliza  never  suc- 
ceeded. I  think  there  was  partiality  about  the  promotions. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  I  nev- 
er was  good  about  remember- 
ing  things.  I  studied  well 
enough,  but  when  I  came  to 
say  off  my  lesson  I  couldn't 
think  what  it  was.  Yet  I  could 
have  answered  some  of  the  other 
girls'  questions. 

JULIA.  —  It's   odd  how  the 
other  girls   always   have   the   easiest   questions. 


TOO  LATE  FOR    THE  EXHIBITION.  87 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  I  never  could  remember  poetry. 
There  was  only  one  thing  I  could  repeat. 

AMANDA.  —  Oh,  do  let  us  have  it  now ;  and  then  we'll 
recite  to  you  some  of  our  exhibition  pieces. 

ELIZABETH   ELIZA.  —  I'll   try. 

MKS.  PETERKLN.  —  Yes,  Elizabeth  Eliza,  do  what  you 
can  to  help  entertain  Amanda's  friends. 

[All  stand  looking  at  ELIZABETH  ELIZA,  who  remains 
silent   and  thoughtful.] 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  I'm  trying  to  think  what  it  is 
about.  You  all  know  it.  You  remember,  Amanda, — 
the  name  is  rather  long. 

AMANDA.  —  It  can't  be  Nebuchadnezzar,  can  it? — that 
is  one  of  the  longest  names  I  know. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.     Oh,  dear,   no! 

JULIA.  — Perhaps   it's   Cleopatra. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  It  does  begin  with  a  w  C,"  —  only 
he  was  a  boy. 

AMANDA.  —  That's  a  pity,  for  it  might  be  w  We  are 
seven,"  only  that  is  a  girl.  Some  of  them  were  boys. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  It  begins  about  a  boy  —  if  I 
could  only  think  where  he  was.  I  can't  remember. 

AMANDA.  —  Perhaps  he  w  stood  upon  the  burning 
deck"? 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA. — That's  just  it;.  I  knew  he  stood 
somewhere. 

AMANDA.  —  Casabianca !     Now   begin  —  go   ahead. 


88  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA. — 

"  The  boy  stood  on  the  burning  deck, 
When  —  when  "  — 

I   can't   think  who   stood   there   with   him. 

JULIA.  —  If  the  deck  was  burning,  it  must  have 
been  on  fire.  I  guess  the  rest  ran  away,  or  jumped 
into  boats. 

AMANDA.  —  That's  just  it:  — 

"  Whence  all  but  him  had  fled." 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  I  think  I   can   say  it  now. 

"The  boy  stood  on  the  burning   deck, 
Whence   all  but  him  had  fled"  — 

[She  hesitates.]     Then  I  think  he   went  — 

JULIA.  —  Of  course,   he   fled   after   the   rest. 
AMANDA.  —  Dear,   no !     That's   the   point.      He   didn't. 

"The  flames  rolled  on,   he  would  not  go 
Without  his  father's   word." 

ELIZABETH  ELIZA.  —  Oh,   yes.     Now  I   can  say   it. 

"The  boy  stood  on  the  burning    deck, 

Whence  all  but  him  had  fled; 
The  flames  rolled  on,   he  would  not  go 
Without  his  father's  word." 

But  it  used  to   rhyme.     I   don't  know  what  has  happened 
to   it. 


TOO  LATE  FOR    THE  EXHIBITION.  89 

MRS.   PETERKIN.  —  Elizabeth    Eliza    is   very   particular 
about   the   rhymes. 

ELIZABETH   ELIZA.  —  It   must   be   "without  his  father's 
head"   or,   perhaps,    w  without   his    father   said "    he    should. 

JULIA.  —  I    think   you   must   have    omitted    something. 

AMANDA.  —  She   has   left   out   ever   so   much ! 

MOTHER.  —  Perhaps    it's    as    well    to    omit    some,    for 
the   ice-cream   has    come,    and   you   must   all   come    down. 

AMANDA.  —  And   here    are    the   rest   of  the   girls;    and 
let   us    all   unite   in    a    song! 

[Exeunt  omnes  singing  J\ 


90 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE    PETERKINS    CELEBRATE    THE    FOURTH    OF 

JULY. 


HE   day   began   early. 

A  compact  had  been  made  with 
the   little  boys  the  evening   before. 

They  were  to  be  allowed  to  usher 
in   the   glorious   day  by   the   blowing 
of  horns  exactly  at  sunrise.     But  they 
were  to  blow  them  for  precisely  five 
minutes   only,    and    no   sound    of  the 
horns  should   be  heard   afterward  till 
the   family   were    downstairs. 
It  was   thought    that   a  peace    might    thus   be   bought 
by   a   short,   though   crowded,    period   of  noise. 

The  morning  came.     Even  before  the  morning,  at  half- 
past  three  o'clock,  a  terrible  blast   of  the   horns 
aroused   the   whole    family. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  clasped  her  hands  to  her  head 
and  exclaimed:  "I  am  thankful  the  lady  from 
Philadelphia .  is  not  here !  "  For  she  had  been 
invited  to  stay  a  week,  but  had  declined  to  come 
before  the  Fdurth  of  July,  as  she  was  not  well, 
and  her  doctor  had  prescribed  quiet. 


THE  PETER  KINS   CELEBRATE    THE  FOURTH.  91 

And  the  number  of  the  horns  was  most  remarkable! 
It  was  as  though  every  cow  in  the  place  had  arisen  and 
was  blowing  through  both  her  own  horns! 

"How  many  little  boys  are  there?  How  many  have 
we?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Peterkin,  going  over  their  names  one 
by  one  mechanically,  thinking  he  would  do  it,  as  he  might 
count  imaginary  sheep  jumping  over  a  fence,  to  put  him- 
self to  sleep.  Alas!  the  counting  could  not  put  him  to 
sleep  now,  in  such  a  din. 

And  how  unexpectedly  long  the  five  minutes   seemed! 
Elizabeth   Eliza  was   to   take   out   her  watch    and  give   the 
signal  for   the  end  of  the  five  minutes, 
and    the   ceasing   of   the    horns.     Why 
did  not  the  signal  come?     Why  did  not 
Elizabeth  Eliza  stop  them? 

And  certainly  it  was  long  before 
sunrise;  there  was  no  dawn  to  be 
seen! 

:?  We  will  not  try  this  plan  again,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

"If  we  live  to  another  Fourth,"  added  Mr.  Peterkin, 
hastening  to  the  door  to  inquire  into  the  state  of  affairs. 

Alas!  Amanda,  by  mistake,  had  waked  up  the  little 
boys  an  hour  too  early.  And  by  another  mistake  the 
little  boys  had  invited  three  or  four  of  their  friends  to 
spend  the  night  with  them.  Mrs.  Peterkin  had  given  them 
permission  to  have  the  boys  for  the  whole  day,  and  they 
understood  the  day  as  beginning  when  they  went  to  bed 
the  night  before.  This  accounted  for  the  number  of  horns. 


92 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


It  would  have  been  impossible  to  hear  any  explana- 
tion; but  the  five  minutes  were  over,  and  the  horns  had 

ceased,  and  there  remained  only 
the  noise  of  a  singular  leaping 
of  feet,  explained  perhaps  by 
a  possible  pillow-fight,  that  kept 
the  family  below  partially  awake 
until  the  bells  and  cannon  made 
known  the  dawning  of  the  glorious  day,  —  the  sunrise,  or 
"the  rising  of  the  sons,"  as  Mr.  Peterkin  jocosely  called 
it  when  they  heard  the  little  boys  and  their  friends  clat- 
tering down  the  stairs  to  begin  the  outside  festivities. 

They  were  bound  first  for  the  swamp,  for  Elizabeth 
Eliza,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  lady  from  Philadelphia, 
had  advised  them  to  hang  some  flags  around  the  pillars 
of  the  piazza.  ]STow  the  little  boys  knew  of  a  place  in 
the  swamp  where  they  had  been  in  the  habit  of  digging 
for  w  flag-root,"  and  where  they  might  find  plenty  of  flag 
flowers.  They  did  bring  away  all  they  could,  but  they 
were  a  little  out  of  bloom.  The  boys  were  in  the  midst 
of  nailing  up  all  they  had  on  the  pillars  of  the  piazza, 
when  the  procession  of  the  Antiques  and  Horribles  passed 
along.  As  the  procession  saw  the  festive  arrangements 
on  the  piazza,  and  the  crowd  of  boys,  who  cheered  them 
loudly,  it  stopped  to  salute  the  house  with  some  especial 
strains  of  greeting. 

Poor  Mrs*.  Peterkin!  They  were  directly  under  her 
windows!  In  a  few  moments  of  quiet,  during  the  boys' 


THE   PETERKINS    CELEBRATE    THE  FOURTH.  93 

absence  from  the  house  on  their  visit  to  the  swamp,  she 
had  been  trying  to  find  out  whether  she  had  a  sick-head- 
ache, or  whether  it  was  all  the  noise,  and  she  was  just 
deciding  it  was  the  sick  headache,  but  was  falling  into 
a  light  slumber,  when  the  fresh  noise  outside  began. 

There  were  the  imitations  of  the  crowing  of  cocks, 
and  braying  of  donkeys,  and  the  sound  of  horns,  encored 
and  increased  by  the  cheers  of  the  boys.  Then  began 
the  torpedoes,  and  the  Antiques  and  Horribles  had  Chinese 
crackers  also. 

And,  in  despair  of  sleep,  the  family  came  down  to 
breakfast. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  had  always  been  much  afraid  of  fire- 
works, and  had  never  allowed  the  boys  to  bring  gun- 
powder into  the  house.  She  was  even  afraid  of  torpedoes; 
they  looked  so  much  like  sugar-plums  she  was  sure  some 
of  the  children  would  swallow  them,  and  explode  before 
anybody  knew  it. 

She  was  very  timid  about  other  things.  She  was  not 
sure  even  about  pea-nuts.  Everybody  exclaimed  over  this: 
w  Surely  there  was  no  danger  in  pea-nuts ! "  But  Mrs. 
Peterkin  declared  she  had  been  very  much  alarmed  at  the 
Centennial  Exhibition,  and  in  the  crowded  corners  of  the 
streets  in  Boston,  at  the  pea-nut  stands,  where  they  had 
machines  to  roast  the  pea-nuts.  She  did  not  think  it  was 
safe.  They  might  go  off  any  time,  in  the  midst  of  a 
crowd  of  people,  too! 

Mr.    Peterkin   thought   there    actually   was    no    danger, 


94  THE    PETERKIN   PAPERS. 

and  he  should  be  sorry  to  give  up  the  pea-nut.  He 
thought  it  an  American  institution,  something  really 
belonging  to  the  Fourth  of  July.  He  even  confessed  to 
a  quiet  pleasure  in  crushing  the  empty  shells  with  his 
feet  on  the  sidewalks  as  he  went  along  the  streets. 

Agamemnon  thought  it  a  simple  joy. 

In  consideration,  however,  of  the  fact  that  they  had 
had  no  real  celebration  of  the  Fourth  the  last  year,  Mrs. 
Peterkin  had  consented  to  give  over  the  day,  this  year, 
to  the  amusement  of  the  family  as  a  Centennial  celebra- 
tion. She  would  prepare  herself  for  a  terrible  noise,  — 
only  she  did  not  want  any  gunpowder  brought  into  the 
house. 

The  little  boys  had  begun  by  firing  some  torpedoes 
a  few  days  beforehand,  that  their  mother  might  be  used 
to  the  sound,  and  had  selected  their  horns  some  weeks 
before. 

Solomon  John  had  been  very  busy  in  inventing  some 
fireworks.  As  Mrs.  Peterkin  objected  to  the  use  of 
gunpowder,  he  found  out  from  the  dictionary  what  the 
different  parts  of  gunpowder  are, —  saltpetre,  charcoal, 
and  sulphur.  Charcoal,  he  discovered,  they  had  in  the 
wood-house;  saltpetre  they  would  find  in  the  cellar,  in  the 
beef  barrel;  and  sulphur  they  could  buy  at  the  apothe- 
cary's. He  explained  to  his  mother  that  these  materials 
had  never  yet  exploded  in  the  house,  and  she  was 
quieted. 

Agamemnon,   meanwhile,  remembered  a   recipe   he   had 


THE  PETERKINS   CELEBRATE    THE  FOURTH. 


95 


read    somewhere    for    making    a    "  fulminating     paste "     of 

iron-filings    and     powder    of    brimstone.      He    had   written 

it  down  on  a  piece  of  paper  in  his  pocket-book. 

But   the   iron  filings    must   be   finely   powdered. 

This    they   began    upon    a   day   or    two    before, 

and   the  very  afternoon  before   laid   out  some  of 

the   paste   on   the   piazza. 

Pin-wheels  and  rockets  were  contributed  by 
Mr.  Peterkin  for  the  evening.  According  to 
a  programme  drawn  up  by  Agamemnon  and 
Solomon  John,  the  reading  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  was  to  take  place  in  the  morn- 
ing, on  the  piazza,  under  the  flags. 

The  Bromwicks  brought  over  their  flag  to 
hang  over  the  door. 

"That   is    what    the    lady    from    Philadelphia    meant," 
explained   Elizabeth   Eliza. 

"She  said  the  flags  of  our  country," 
said  the  little  boys.  :?We  thought  she 
meant  'in  the  country." 

Quite  a  company  assembled;  but  it 
seemed  nobody  had  a  copy  of  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence. 

Elizabeth    Eliza    said    she    could    say 

one  line,  if  they  each  could  add  as  much.  But  it  proved 
they  all  knew  the  same  line  that  she  did,  as  they 
began  :  — 

?;When,   in   the    course    of — when,  in   the  course  of — 


96  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

when,  in  the  course  of  human  —  when  in  the  course  of 
human  events  —  when,  in  the  course  of  human  events,  it 
becomes  —  when,  in  the  course  of  human  events,  it 
becomes  necessary  —  when,  in  the  course  of  human  events, 
it  becomes  necessary  for  one  people "  — 

They  could  not  get  any  farther.  Some  of  the  party 
decided  that  w  one  people "  was  a  good  place  to  stop, 
and  the  little  boys  sent  off  some  fresh  torpedoes  in  honor 
of  the  people.  But  Mr.  Peterkin  was  not  satisfied.  He 
invited  the  assembled  party  to  stay  until  sunset,  and 
meanwhile  he  would  find  a  copy,  and  torpedoes  were  to 
be  saved  to  be  fired  off  at  the  close  of  every  sentence. 

And    now    the    noon    bells    rang 
and   the   noon   bells   ceased. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  wanted  to  ask 
everybody  to  dinner.  She  should  have 
some  cold  beef.  She  had  let  Amanda 
go,  because  it  was  the  Fourth,  and 
everybody  ought  to  be  free  that  one 
day;  so  she  could  not  have  much  of 
a  dinner.  But  when  she  went  to  cut  her  beef  she  found 
Solomon  had  taken  it  to  soak,  on  account  of  the  salt- 
petre, for  the  fireworks! 

Well,  they  had  a  pig;  so  she  took  a  ham,  and  the 
boys  had  bought  tamarinds  and  buns  and  a  cocoa-nut.  So 
the  cc;npany  stayed  on,  and  when  the  Antiques  and 
Horribles  passed  again  they  were  treated  to  pea-nuts  and 
lemonade. 


THE  PETERK1NS    CELEBRATE    THE  FOURTH. 


97 


They  sung  patriotic  songs,  they  told  stories,  they 
fired  torpedoes,  they  frightened  the  cats  with  them.  It 
was  a  warm  afternoon;  the  red  poppies  were  out  wide, 
and  the  hot  sun  poured  down  on  the  alley- ways  in  the 
garden.  There  was  a  seething  sound  of  a  hot  day  in 
the  buzzing  of  insects,  in  the  steaming  heat  that  came 
up  from  the  ground.  Some  neighboring  boys 
were  firing  a  toy  cannon.  Every  time  it 
went  off  Mrs.  Peterkin  started,  and  looked 
to  see  if  one  of  the  little  boys  was  gone. 
Mr.  Peterkin  had  set  out  to  find  a  copy 
of  the  "Declaration."  Agamemnon  had  dis- 
appeared. She  had  not  a  moment  to  decide  about  her 
headache.  She  asked  Ann  Maria  if  she  were  not  anxious 
about  the  fireworks,  and  if  rockets  were  not  dangerous. 

They  went  up,  but  you  were 
never  sure  where  they  came 
down. 

And  then  came  a  fresh 
tumult!  All  the  fire-engines 
in  town  rushed  toward  them, 
clanging  with  bells,  men  and 
boys  yelling!  They  were  out 
for  a  practice,  and  for  a 
Fourth-of-July  show. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  thought  the 
house  was  on  fire,  and  so  did 
some  of  the  guests.  There 


98 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


was  great  rushing  hither  and  thither.  Some  thought  they 
would  better  go  home  ;  some  thought  they  would  better  stay. 
Mrs.  Peterkin  hastened  into  the  house  to  save  herself,  or  see 
what  she  could  save.  Elizabeth  Eliza  followed  her,  first 
proceeding  to  collect  all  the  pokers  and  tongs 
she  could  find,  because  they  could  be  thrown 
out  of  the  window  without  breaking.  She 
had  read  of  people  who  had  flung  looking- 
glasses  out  of  the  window  by  mistake,  in  the 
excitement  of  the  house  being  on  fire,  and 
had  carried  the  pokers  and  tongs  carefully 
into  the  garden.  There  was  nothing  like  be- 
ing prepared.  She  had  always  determined  to 
do  the  reverse.  So  with  calmness  she  told 
Solomon  John  to  take  down  the  looking- 
glasses.  But  she  met  with  a  difficulty,  —  there  were  no 
pokers  and  tongs,  as  they  did  not  use  them.  They  had 
no  open  fires;  Mrs.  Peterkin  had  been  afraid  of  them. 
So  Elizabeth  Eliza  took  all  the 
pots  and  kettles  up  to  the 
upper  windows,  ready  to  be 
thrown  out. 

But  where  was  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin?  Solomon  John  found  she 
had  fled  to  the  attic  in  terror. 
He  persuaded  her  to  come 
down,  assuring  her  it  was  the 
most  unsafe  place;  but  she  in- 


THE   PETERKINS    CELEBRATE    THE  FOURTH. 


99 


sisted   upon   stopping   to   collect   some   bags   of    old   pieces, 

that    nobody     would     think    of    saving    from    the   general 

wreck,   she    said,    unless    she    did.     Alas!    this   was   the   re- 
sult    of    fireworks     on     Fourth     of 

July!        As   they   came     downstairs 

they    heard    the    voices    of   all   the 

company     declaring    there    was     no 

fire;   the    danger   was   past.     It  was 

long     before     Mrs.     Peterkin     could 

believe   it.      They   told   her   the   fire 

company    was     only    out   for     show, 

and    to     celebrate    the   Fourth    of    July.      She   thought   it 

already   too   much   celebrated. 

Elizabeth    Eliza's    kettles     and   pans   had   come    down 

through   the   windows   with   a   crash,    that   had   only   added 

to   the   festivities,    the   little   boys    thought. 

Mr.     Peterkin   had   been   roaming   about    all    this    time 

in   search   of  a   copy   of  the   Declaration   of  Independence. 

The    public    library    was     shut,     and    he   had   to   go    from 

house  to  house;  but  now,  as  the 
sunset  bells  and  cannon  began,  he 
returned  with  a  copy,  and  read  it, 
to  the  pealing  of  the  bells  and 
sounding  of  the  cannon.  Torpe- 
does and  crackers  were  fired  at 

every   pause.      Some    sweet-marjoram   pots,    tin   cans   filled 

with    crackers    which    were   lighted,    went    off    with    great 

explosions. 


100  THE  PETEEKIN  PAPERS. 

At  the  most  exciting  moment,  near  the  close  of  the 
reading,  Agamemnon,  with  an  expression  of  terror,  pulled 
Solomon  John  aside. 

w  I  have  suddenly  remembered  where  I  read  about  the 
f  fulminating  paste '  we  made.  It  was  in  the  preface  to 
'Woodstock,'  and  I  have  been  round  to  borrow  the  book, 
to  read  the  directions  over  again,  because  I  was  afraid 
about  the  '  paste '  going  off.  READ  THIS  QUICKLY  !  and 
tell  me,  Where  is  the  fulminating  paste?" 

Solomon  John  was  busy  winding  some  covers  of  paper 
over  a  little  parcel.  It  contained  chlorate  of  potash  and 
sulphur  mixed.  A  friend  had  told  him  of  the  composition. 
The  more  thicknesses  of  paper  you  put  round  it  the 
louder  it  would  go  off.  You  must  pound  it  with  a  ham- 
mer. Solomon  John  felt  it  must  be  perfectly  safe,  as  his 
mother  had  taken  potash  for  a  medicine. 

He  still  held  the  parcel  as  he  read  from  Agamemnon's 
book:  <?  This  paste,  when  it  has  lain  together  about  twenty- 
six  hours,  will  of  itself  take  fire,  and  burn  all  the  sulphur 
away  with  a  blue  flame  and  a  bad  smell." 

?  Where  is  the  paste  ? "  repeated  Solomon  John,  in 
terror. 

?We  made  it  just  twenty-six  hours  ago,"  said  Aga- 
memnon. 

'  We  put  it  on  the  piazza,"  exclaimed  Solomon  John, 
rapidly  recalling  the  facts,  "and  it  is  in  front  of  our 
mother's  feet!" 

He  hastened  to  snatch  the  paste  away  before  it  should 


THE  PETERKINS   CELEBRATE    THE  FOURTH.        101 


take  fire,  flinging  aside  the  packet  in  his  hurry.  Aga- 
memnon, jumping  upon  the  piazza  at  the  same  moment, 
trod  upon  the  paper  parcel, 
which  exploded  at  once  with 
the  shock,  and  he  fell  to  the 
ground,  while  at  the  same 
moment  the  paste  "  fulmi- 
nated "  into  a  blue  flame 
directly  in  front  of  Mrs. 
Peterkin ! 

It  was  a  moment  of  great 

confusion.  There  were  cries  and  screams.  The  bells  were 
still  ringing,  the  cannon  firing,  and  Mr.  Peterkin  had  just 
reached  the  closing  words:  "Our  lives,  our  fortunes,  and 
our  sacred  honor." 

'We    are   all    blown   up,    as   I   feared   we    should    be," 
Mrs.    Peterkin    at    length   ventured  to    say,   finding   herself 

in  a  lilac-bush  by  the  side  of  the 
piazza.  She  scarcely  dared  to  open 
her  eyes  to  see  the  scattered  limbs 
about  her. 

It  was  so  with  all.  Even  Ann 
Maria  Bromwick  clutched  a  pillar  of 
the  piazza,  with  closed  eyes. 

At  length  Mr.  Peterkin  said, 
calmly,  "Is  anybody  killed?" 

There   was   no    reply.      Nobody   could    tell   whether   it 
was   because   everybody   was   killed,    or   because   they   were 


102  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

too  wounded   to  answer.     It  was  a  great  while  before  Mrs. 
Peterkin   ventured   to   move. 

But  the  little  boys  soon  shouted  with  joy,  and  cheered 
the  success  of  Solomon  John's  fireworks,  and  hoped  he 
had  some  more.  One  of  them  had  his  face  blackened  by 
an  unexpected  cracker,  and  Elizabeth  Eliza's  muslin  dress 
was  burned  here  and  there.  But  no  one  was  hurt;  no 
one  had  lost  any  limbs,  though  Mrs.  Peterkin  was  sure 
she  had  seen  some  flying  in  the  air.  Nobody  could  under- 
stand how,  as  she  had  kept  her  eyes  firmly  shut. 

No  greater  accident  had  occurred  than 
the  singeing  of  the  tip  of  Solomon  John's 
nose.  But  there  was  an  unpleasant  and 
terrible  odor  from  the  "fulminating  paste." 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  extricated  from  the 
lilac-bush.  No  one  knew  how  she  got  there. 
Indeed,  the  thundering  noise  had  stunned 
everybody.  It  had  roused  the  neighborhood 
even  more  than  before.  Answering  explosions  came  on 
every  side,  and,  though  the  sunset  light  had  not  faded 
away,  the  little  boys  hastened  to  send  off  rockets  under 
cover  of  the  confusion.  Solomon  John's  other  fireworks 
would  not  go.  But  all  felt  he  had  done  enough. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  retreated  into  the  parlor,  deciding  she 
really  did  have  a  headache.  -At  times  she  had  to  come 
out  when  a  rocket  went  off,  to  see  if  it  was  one  of  the 
little  boys.  She  was  exhausted  by  the  adventures  of  the 
day,  and  almost  thought  it  could  not  have  been  worse  if 


THE  PETERKINS    CELEBRATE    THE  FOURTH.         1Q3 

, 

the  boys  had  been  allowed  gunpowder.  The  distracted 
lady  was  thankful  there  was  likely  to  be  but  one  Cen- 
tennial Fourth  in  her  lifetime,  and  declared  she  should 
never  more  keep  anything  in  the  house  as  dangerous  as 
saltpetred  beef,  and  she  should  never  venture  to  take 
another  spoonful  of  potash. 


10* 


THE  PETEEKIN  PAPERS. 


THE    PETERKINS'    PICNIC. 


HERE  was  some  doubt  about  the  weather. 
Solomon  John  looked  at  the  "Proba- 
bilities "  ;  there  were  to  be  w  areas  of 
rain "  in  the  New  England  States. 

Agamemnon   thought    if    they    could 
only  know  where  the  areas  of  rain  were 
to  be  they  might  go  to  the  others.      Mr. 
Peterkin    proposed    walking     round     the 
house    in    a    procession,    to    examine    the    sky.       As    they 
returned  they^  met   Ann   Maria   Bromwick,  who  was  to   go, 
much    surprised   not   to   find   them   ready. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peterkin  were  to  go  ,in  the  carryall,  and 
take  up  the  lady  from  Philadelphia,  and  Ann  Maria,  with 
the  rest,  was  to  follow  in  a  wagon,  and  to  stop  for  the 
daughters  of  the  lady  from  Philadelphia.  The  wagon 
arrived,  and  so  Mr.  Peterkin  had  the  horse  put  into  the 
carryall. 

A  basket  had  been  kept  on  the  back  piazza  for  some 
days,  where  anybody  could  put  anything  that  would  be 
needed  for  the  picnic  as  soon  as  it  was  thought  of.  Aga- 
memnon had  already  decided  to  take  a  thermometer;  some- 


THE  PETERKIN&   PICNIC. 


105 


body  was  always  complaining  of  being  too  hot  or  too  cold 
at  a  picnic,  and  it  would  be  a  great  conven- 
ience to  see  if  she  really  were  so.  He  thought 
now  he  might  take  a  barometer,  as  w  Proba- 
bilities "  was  so  uncertain.  Then,  if  it  went 
down  in  a  threatening  way,  they  could  all 
come  back. 

The  little  boys  had  tied  their  kites  to 
the  basket.  They  had  never  tried  them  at 
home;  it  might  be  a  good  chance  on  the  hills. 
Solomon  John  had  put  in  some  fishing-poles;  Elizabeth 
Eliza,  a  book  of  poetry.  Mr.  Peterkin  did  not  like  sitting 
on  the  ground,  and  proposed  taking  two  chairs,  one  for 
himself  and  one  for  anybody  else.  The  little  boys  were 
perfectly  happy;  they  jumped  in  and  out  of  the  wagon  a 
dozen  times,  with  new  india-rubber  boots,  bought  for  the 
occasion. 

Before  they  started,  Mrs.  Peterkin  began  to  think  she 
had  already  had  enough  of  the  picnic, 
what  with  going  and  coming,  and  trying 
to  remember  things.  So  many  mistakes 
were  made.  The  things  that  were  to  go 
in  the  wagon  were  put  in  the  carryall, 
and  the  things  in  the  carryall  had  to  be 
taken  out  for  the  wagon!  Elizabeth 
Eliza  forgot  her  water-proof,  and  had  to 
go  back  for  her  veil,  and  Mr.  Peterkin 
came  near  forgetting  his  umbrella. 


106 


THE  PETEEKIN  PAPERS. 


Mrs.  Peterkin  sat  on  the  piazza  and  tried  to  think. 
She  felt  as  if  she  must  have  forgotten  something;  she 
knew  she  must.  Why  could  not  she  think  of  it  now, 
before  it  was  too  late?  It  seems  hard  any  day  to  think 
what  to  have  for  dinner,  but  how  much  easier  now  ifc 
would  be  to  stay  at  home  quietly  and  order  the  dinner,  — 
and  there  was  the  butcher's  cart!  But  now  they  must 
think  of  everything. 

At  last  she  was  put  into  the  carryall,  and  Mr.  Peter- 
kin  in  front  to  drive.  Twice  they  started,  and  twice  they 
found  something  was  left  behind,  —  the  loaf  of  fresh  brown 

bread  on  the  back  piazza,  and  a 
basket  of  sandwiches  on  the  front 
porch.  And,  just  as  the  wagon 
was  leaving,  the  little  boys  shrieked, 
"  The  basket  of  things  was  left 
behind!" 

Everybody  got  out  of  the 
wagon.  Agamemnon  went  back 
into  the  house,  to  see  if  anything 
else  were  left.  He  looked  into  the 

closets;  he  shut  the  front  door,  and  was  so  busy  that 
he  forgot  to  get  into  the  wagon  himself.  It  started  off 
and  went  down  the  street  without  him! 

He  was  wondering  what  he  should  do  if  he  were 
left  behind  (why  had  they  not  thought  to  arrange  a 
telegraph  wire  to  the  back  wheel  of  the  wagon,  so  that 
he  might  have  sent  a  message  in  such  a  case!),  when 


J 


THE  PETEEKINS'   PICNIC.  107 

the   Bromwicks   drove   out  of  their    yard,  in    their   buggy, 
and   took   him   in. 

They  joined  the  rest  of  the  party  at  Tatham  Corners, 
where  they  were  all  to  meet  and  consult  where  they  were 
to  go.  Mrs.  Peterkin  called  to  Aga- 
memnon, as  soon  as  he  appeared. 
She  had  been  holding  the  barom- 
eter and  the  thermometer,  and  they 
waggled  so  that  it  troubled  her. 
It  was  hard  keeping  the  thermom- 
eter out  of  the  sun,  which  would 
make  it  so  warm.  It  really  took 
away  her  pleasure,  holding  the 
things.  Agamemnon  decided  to  get 

into   the   carryall,   on   the    seat    with    his   father,   and   take 
the  barometer    and  thermometer. 

The  consultation  went  on.  Should  they  go  to  Cherry 
Swamp,  or  Lonetown  Hill?  You  had  the  view  if  you 
went  to  Lonetown  Hill,  but  maybe  the  drive  to  Cherry 
Swamp  was  prettier. 

Somebody  suggested  asking  the  lady  from  Philadel- 
phia, as  the  picnic  was  got  up  for  her. 

But   where   was    she? 

"I  declare,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  "I  forgot  to  stop  for 
her!"  The  whole  picnic  there,  and  no  lady  from  Phila- 
delphia! 

It  seemed  the  horse  had  twitched  his  head  in  a 
threatening  manner  as  they  passed  the  house,  and  Mr 


108 


THE    PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


Peterkin  had  forgotten  to  stop,  and  Mrs.  Peterkin  had 
been  so  busy  managing  the  thermometers  that  she  had 
not  noticed,  and  the  wagon  had  followed  on  behind. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  in  despair.  She  knew  they  had 
forgotten  something!  She  did  not  like  to  have  Mr.  Peter- 
kin  make  a  short  turn,  and  it  was  getting  late,  and  what 

would  the  lady  from  Philadelphia 
think  of  it,  and  had  they  not 
better  give  it  all  up? 

But  everybody  said  "  ]STo ! " 
and  Mr.  Peterkin  said  he  could 
make  a  wide  turn  round  the 
Lovejoy  barn.  So  they  made  the 
turn,  and  took  up  the  lady  from 

Philadelphia,  and  the  wagon  followed  behind  and  took 
up  her  daughters,  for  there  was  a  driver  in  the  wagon 
besides  Solomon  John. 

Ann  Maria  Bromwick  said 
it  was  so  late  by  this  time  they 
might  as  well  stop  and  have  the 
picnic  on  the  Common!  But  the 
question  was  put  again,  Where 
should  they  go? 

The   lady   from    Philadelphia 
decided   for   Strawberry  2sTook,  — 
it  sounded   inviting.     There  were 
no    strawberries,    and    there    was    no    nook,    it    was    said, 
out   there   was    a   good   place   to   tie   the   horses. 


THE  PETER  KINS'    PICNIC.  109 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  feeling  a  little  nervous,  for  she 
did  not  know  what  the  lady  from  Philadelphia  would 
think  of  their  having  forgotten  her,  and  the  more  she 
tried  to  explain  it  the  worse  it  seemed  to  make  it. 
She  supposed  they  never  did  such  things  in  Philadelphia; 
she  knew  they  had  invited  all  the  world  to  a  party,  but 
she  was  sure  she  would  never  want  to  invite  anybody 
again.  There  was  no  fun  about  it  till  it  was  all  over. 
Such  a  mistake,  —  to  have  a  party  for  a  person,  and  then 
go  without  her;  but  she  knew  they  would  forget  some- 
thing! She  wished  they  had  not  called  it  their  picnic. 

There    was    another    bother!       Mr.    Peterkin    stopped. 
'Was    anything   broke?"    exclaimed   Mrs.   Peterkin.     "Was 
something     forgotten  ? "     asked     the 
lady   from   Philadelphia. 

No!  But  Mr.  Peterkin  didn't 
know  the  way;  and  here  he  was 
leading  all  the  party,  and  a  long 
row  of  carriages  following. 

They  all  stopped,  and  it  seemed 
nobody  knew  the  way  to  Strawberry 
Nook,  unless  it  was  the  Gibbons 

boys,  who  were  far  behind.  They  were  made  to  drive 
up,  and  said  that  Strawberry  Nook  was  in  quite  a  dif- 
ferent direction,  but  they  could  bring  the  party  round 
to  it  through  the  meadows. 

The  lady  from  Philadelphia  thought  they  might  stop 
anywhere,  such  a  pleasant  day;  but  Mr.  Peterkin  said 


110 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


they   were    started    for   Strawberry   Nook,    and    had   better 
keep   on. 

So  they  kept  on.  It  proved  to  t>e  an  excellent  place, 
where  they  could  tie  the  horses  to  a  fence.  Mrs.  Peterkin 
did  not  like  their  all  heading  different  ways;  it  seemed  as 
if  any  of  them  might  come  at  her,  and  tear  up  the  fence, 
especially  as  the  little  boys  had  their  kites  flapping  round. 
The  Tremletts  insisted  upon  the  whole  party  going  up  on 
the  hill;  it  was  too  damp  below.  So  the  Gibbons  boys, 

and  the    little    boys,    and    Aga- 
memnon,    and     Solomon     John, 

8Mi^tt3&i  I  and  a11  the   Party>  had  to  cari7 

everything     up     to     the     rocks. 

^kTf^m^TfgS^I  *&££  II  .         The   large    basket    of    w  things  " 

was  very  heavy.  It  had  been 
difficult  to  lift  it  into  the 
wagon,  and  it  was  harder  to 
take  it  out.  But,  with  the  help 
of  the  driver,  and  Mr.  Peter- 
kin,  and  old  Mr.  Bromwick,  it 
was  got  up  the  hill. 

And  at  last  all  was  arranged.  Mr.  Peterkin  was 
seated  in  his  chair.  The  other  was  offered  to  the  lady 
from  Philadelphia,  but  she  preferred  the  carriage  cushions; 
so  did  old  Mr.  Bromwick.  And  the  table-cloth  was  spread,  — 
for  they  did  bring  a  table-cloth,  —  and  the  baskets  were 
opened,  and  the  picnic  really  began.  The  pickles  had 
tumbled  into  the  butter,  and  the  spoons  had  been  forgotten, 


THE   PETERKINS'   PICNIC.  HI 

and  the  Tremletts'  basket  had  been  left  on  their  front 
door-step.  But  nobody  seemed  to  mind.  Everybody  was 
hungry,  and  everything  they  ate  seemed  of  the  best.  The 
little  boys  were  perfectly  happy,  and  ate  of  all  the  .kinds 
of  cake.  Two  of  the  Tremletts  would  stand  while  they 
were  eating,  because  they  were  afraid  of  the  ants  and  the 
spiders  that  seemed  to  be  crawling  round.  And  Elizabeth 
Eliza  had  to  keep  poking  with  a  fern-leaf  to  drive  the 
insects  out  of  the  plates.  The  lady  from  Philadelphia  was 
made  comfortable  with  the  cushions  and  shawls,  leaning 
against  a  rock.  Mrs.  Peterkin  wondered  if  she  forgot  she 
had  been  forgotten. 

John  Osborne  said  it  was  time  for  conundrums,  and 
asked,  *  Why  is  a  pastoral  musical  play  better  than  the 
music  we  have  here?  Because  one  is  a  grasshopper,  and 
the  other  is  a  grass-opera! " 

Elizabeth  Eliza  said  she  knew  a  conundrum,  a  very 
funny  one,  one  of  her  friends  in  Boston  had  told  her. 

It  was,  w  Why  is "  It  began,  w  Why  is  something  like 

" —  no,  "Why  are  they  different? "  It  was  something 

about  an  old  woman,  or  else  it  was  something  about  a  young 
one.  It  was  very  funny,  if  she  could  only  think  what  it 
was  about,  or  whether  it  was  alike  or  different. 

The  lady  from  Philadelphia  was  proposing  they  should 
guess  Elizabeth  Eliza's  conundrum,  first  the  question,  and 
then  the  answer,  when  one  of  the  Tremletts  came  running 
down  the  hill,  and  declared  she  had  just  discovered  a 
very  threatening  cloud,  and  she  was  sure  it  was  going  to 


,  112  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

rain  down  directly.  Everybody  started  up,  though  no 
cloud  was  to  be  seen. 

There  was  a  great  looking  for  umbrellas  and  water- 
proofs. Then  it  appeared  that  Elizabeth  Eliza  had  left 
hers,  after  all,  though  she  had  gone  back  for  it  twice „ 
Mr.  Peterkin  knew  he  had  not  forgotten  his  umbrella, 
because  he  had  put  the  whole  umbrella-stand  into  the 
wagon,  and  it  had  been  brought  up  the  hill,  but  it  proved 
to  hold  only  the  family  canes! 

There  was  a  great  cry  for  the  "  emergency  basket," 
that  had  not  been  opened  yet.  Mrs.  Peterkin  explained 
how  for  days  the  family  had  been  putting  into  it  what 
might  be  needed,  as  soon  as  anything  was  thought  of. 
Everybody  stopped  to  see  its  contents.  It  was  carefully 

covered  with  newspapers.  First 
came  out  a  backgammon-board. 
"That  would  be  useful,"  said 
Ann  Maria,  w  if  we  have  to  spend 
the  afternoon  in  anybody's  barn." 

Next,  a.  pair  of  andirons.  ?  What  were  they  for?"  "In 
case  of  needing  a  fire  in  the  woods,"  explained  Solomon 
John.  Then  came  a  volume  of  the  Encyclopaedia.  But 
it  was  the  first  volume,  Agamemnon  now  regretted,  and 
contained  only  A  and  a  part  of  B,  and  nothing  about 
rain  or  showers.  Next,  a  bag  of  pea-nuts,  put  in  by  the 
little  boys,  and  Elizabeth  Eliza's  book  of  poetry,  and  a 
change  of  boots  for  Mr.  Peterkin ;  a  small  foot-rug  in 
case  the  ground  should  be  damp;  some  paint-boxes  of 


THE  PETERKIN&    PICNIC.  113 

the   little   boys';    a   box   of    fish-hooks    for    Solomon   John; 
an   ink-bottle,  carefully  done   up   in  a  great   deal    of  news- 
paper,   which    was    fortunate,    as   the   ink   was    oozing   out; 
some   old  magazines,  and   a  black- 
ing-bottle;   and    at    the   bottom    a 
sun-dial.      It    was    all   very    enter- 
taining,   and    there    seemed    to    be 
something    for    every   occasion   but 

the  present.  Old  Mr.  Bromwick  did  not  wonder  the 
basket  was  so  heavy.  It  was  all  so  interesting  that 
nobody  but  the  Tremletts  went  down  to  the  carriages. 

The  sun  was  shining  brighter  than  ever,  and  Ann 
Maria  insisted  on  setting  up  the  sun-dial.  Certainly  there 
was  no  danger  of  a  shower,  and  they  might  as  well  go 
on  with  the  picnic.  But  when  Solomon  John  and  Ann 
Maria  had  arranged  the  sun-dial  they  asked  everybody 
to  look  at  their  watches,  so  that  they  might  see  if  it  was 
right.  And  then  came  a  great  exclamation  at  the  hour: 
"  It  was  time  they  were  all  going  home ! " 

The  lady  from  Philadelphia  had  been  wrapping  her 
shawl  about  her,  as  she  felt  the  sun  was  low.  But  nobody 
had  any  idea  it  was  so  late !  "Well,  they  had  left  late,  and 
went  back  a  great  many  times,  had  stopped  sometimes  to 
consult,  and  had  been  long  on  the  road,  and  it  had  taken 
a  long  time  to  fetch  up  the  things ;  so  it  was  no  wonder  it 
was  time  to  go  away.  But  it  had  been  a  delightful  picnic, 
after  all. 


114 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE    PETERKINS'    CHARADES. 


VER  since  the  picnic  the  Peterkins  had 
been  wanting  to  have  "  something "  at 
their  house  in  the  way  of  entertain- 
ment. The  little  boys  wanted  to  get 
up  a  "great  Exposition,"  to  show 
to  the  people  of  the  place.  But  Mr. 
Peterkin  thought  it  too  great  an 
effort  to  send  to  foreign  countries  for 
"exhibits,"  and  it  was  given  up. 

There  was,  however,  a  new  water-trough  needed  on 
the  town  common,  and  the  ladies  of  the  place  thought 
it  ought  to  be  something  handsome,  —  something  more 
than  a  common  trough,  —  and  they  ought  to  work  for 
it. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  had  heard  at  Philadelphia  how  much 
women  had  done,  and  she  felt  they  ought  to  contribute 
to  such  a  cause.  She  had  an  idea,  but  she  would  not 
speak  of  it  at  first,  not  until  after  she  had  written  to 
the  lady  from  Philadelphia.  She  had  often  thought,  in 
many  cases,  if  they  had  asked  her  advice  first,  they 
might  have  saved  trouble. 


THE  PETERKINS'  CHARADES. 


115 


Still,  how  could  they  ask  advice  before  they  them- 
selves knew  what  they  wanted  ?  It  was  very  easy  to 
ask  advice,  but  you  must  first  know  what  to  ask  about. 
And  again:  Elizabeth  Eliza  felt  you  might  have  ideas, 
but  you  could  not  always  put  them  together.  There  was 
this  idea  of  the  water-trough, 
and  then  this  idea  of  getting 
some  money  for  it.  So  she  be- 
gan with  writing  to  the  lady 
from  Philadelphia.  The  little 
boys  believed  she  spent  enough 
for  it  in  postage-stamps  before 
it  all  came  out. 

But  it  did  come  out  at 
last  that  the  Peterkins  were  to 
have  some  charades  at  their 

own  house  for  the  benefit  of  the  needed  water-trough, — 
tickets  sold  only  to  especial  friends.  Ann  Maria  Brom- 
wick  was  to  help  act,  because  she  could  bring  some  old 
bonnets  and  gowns  that  had  been  worn  by  an  aged  aunt 
years  ago,  and  which  they  had  always  kept.  Elizabeth 
Eliza  said  that  Solomon  John  would  have  to  be  a  Turk, 
and  they  must  borrow  all  the  red  things  and  cashmere 
scarfs  in  the  place.  She  knew  people  would  be  willing 
to  lend  things. 

Agamemnon  thought  you  ought  to  get  in  something 
about  the  Hindoos,  they  were  such  an  odd  people.  Eliza- 
beth Eliza  said  you  must  not  have  it  too  odd,  or  people 


116 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


would  not  understand  it,  and  she  did  not  want  anything 
to  frighten  her  mother.  She  had  one  word  suggested  by 
the  lady  from  Philadelphia  in  her  letters,  —  the  one  that 
had  "Turk"  in  it,  —  but  they  ought  to  have  two  words. 
"Oh,  yes,"  Ann  Maria  said,  "you  must  have  two 
words;  if  the  people  paid  for  their  tickets  they  would 
want  to  get  their  money's  worth." 

Solomon  John  thought  you  might  have  "  Hindoos " ; 
the  little  boys  could  color  their  faces  brown,  to  look  like 
Hindoos.  You  could  have  the  first  scene  an  Irishman 
catching  a  hen,  and  then  paying  the  water-taxes  for 
"dues,"  and  then  have  the  little  boys  for  Hindoos. 

A  great  many  other  words  were  talked  of,  but  noth- 
ing seemed  to  suit.  There  was  a  curtain,  too,  to  be 
thought  of,  because  the  folding-doors  stuck  when  you 
tried  to  open  and  shut  them.  Agamemnon  said  that  the 
Pan-Elocutionists  had  a  curtain  they  would  probably  lend 

John  Osborne,  and  so  it  was  de- 
cided to  ask  John  Osborne  to 
help. 

If  they  had  a  curtain  they 
ought  to  have  a  stage.  Solomon 
John  said  he  was  sure  he  had 
boards  and  nails  enough,  and  it 
would  be  easy  to  make  a  stage 
if  John  Osborne  would  help  put 
it  up. 
All  this  talk  was  the  day  before  the  charades.  In 


THE  PETERKINS'    CHARADES.  H7 

the  midst  of  it  Ann  Maria  went  over  for  her  old  bon- 
nets and  dresses  and  umbrellas,  and  they  spent  the  even- 
ing in  trying  on  the  various  things,  —  such  odd  caps  and 
remarkable  bonnets!  Solomon  John  said  they  ought  to 
have  plenty  of  bandboxes;  if  you  only  had  bandboxes 
enough  a  charade  was  sure  to  go  off  well;  he  had  seen 
charades  in  Boston.  Mrs.  Peterldn  said  there  were  plenty 
in  their  attic,  and  the  little  boys  brought  down  piles  of 
them,  and  the  back  parlor  was  filled  with  costumes. 

Ann  Maria  said  she  could  bring  over  more  things 
if  she  only  knew  what  they  were  going  to  •  act.  Eliza- 
beth Eliza  told  her  to  bring  anything  she  had,  —  it  would 
all  come  of  use. 

The  morning  came,  and  the  boards  were  collected 
for  the  stage.  Agamemnon  and  Solomon  John  gave  them- 
selves to  the  work,  and  John  Osborne  helped  zealously. 
He  said  the  Pan-Elocutionists  would  lend  a  scene  also. 
There  was  a  great  clatter  of  bandboxes,  and  piles  of 
shawls  in  corners,  and  such  a  piece  of  work  in  getting 
up  the  curtain!  In  the  midst  of  it  came  in  the  little 
boys,  shouting,  "All  the  tickets  are  sold,  at  ten  cents 
each!" 

"Seventy   tickets    sold!"    exclaimed   Agamemnon. 

"  Seven  dollars  for  the  water-trough !  "  said  Elizabeth 
Eliza. 

"And  we  do  not  know  tyet  what  we  are  going  to 
act!"  exclaimed  Ann  Maria. 

But   everybody's    attention    had    to    be    given   to   the 


118  "THE  PETERKIN   PAPERS. 

scene  that  was  going  up  in  the  background,  borrowed 
from  the  Pan-Elocutionists.  It  was  magnificent,  and  rep- 
resented a  forest. 

'Where  are  we  going  to  put  seventy  people?"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Peterkin,  venturing,  dismayed,  into  the  heaps 

of  shavings,    and   boards,    and   litter. 

• 

The  little  boys  exclaimed  that  a  large  part  of  the 
audience  consisted  of  boys,  who  would  not  take  up  much 
room.  But  how  much  clearing  and  sweeping  and  moving 
of  chairs  was  necessary  before  all  could  be  made  ready! 
It  was  late,  and  some  of  the  people  had  already  come  to 
secure  good  seats,  even  before  the  actors  had  assembled. 

:fWhat  are  we  going  to  act?"  asked  Ann  Maria. 

"  I  have  been  so  torn  with  one  thing  and  another," 
said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  "I  haven't  had  time  to  think!" 

"Haven't  you  the  word  yet?"  asked  John  Osborne, 
for  the  audience  was  flocking  in,  and  the  seats  were  filling 
up  rapidly. 

r?  I  have  got  one  word  in  my  pocket,"  said  Elizabeth 
Eliza,  "in  the  letter  from  the  lady  from  Philadelphia. 
She  sent  me  the  parts  of  the  word.  Solomon  John  is  to  be 
a  Turk,  but  I  don't  yet  understand  the  whole  of  the  word." 

"You  don't  know  the  word,  and  the  people  are  all 
here ! "  said  John  Osborne,  impatiently. 

"  Elizabeth  Eliza !  "  exclaimed  Ann  Maria,  "  Solomon 
John  says  I'm  to  be  a  Turkish  slave,  and  I'll  have  to  wear 
a  veil.  Do  you  know  where  the  veils  are?  You  know 
I  brought  them  over  last  night." 


THE   PETE  REINS'    CHARADES.  H9 

"Elizabeth  Eliza!  Solomon  John  wants  you  to  send 
him  the  large  cashmere  scarf !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  little 
boys,  coming  in.  "  Elizabeth  Eliza !  you  must  tell  us  what 
kind  of  faces  to  make  up ! "  cried  another  of  the  boys. 

And  the  audience  were  heard  meanwhile  taking  their 
seats  on  the  other  side  of  the  thin  curtain. 

"You  sit  in  front,  Mrs.  Bromwick;  you  are  a  little 
hard  of  hearing;  sit  where  you  can  hear." 

"And  let  Julia  Fitch  come  where  she  can  see,"  said 
another  voice. 

"And  we  have  not  any  words  for  them  to  hear  or 
see !  "  exclaimed  John  Osborne,  behind  the  curtain. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  we'd  never  determined  to  have  charades !  " 
exclaimed  Elizabeth  Eliza.  "Can't  we  return  the  money?" 

'?  They  are  all  here ;  we  must  give  them  something !  " 
said  John  Osborne,  heroically. 

"  And  Solomon  John  is  almost  dressed,"  reported  Ann 
Maria,  winding  a  veil  around  her  head. 

?  Why  don't  we  take  Solomon 
John's  word  '  Hindoos'  for  the 
first? "  said  Agamemnon. 

John  Osborne  agreed  to  go 
in  the  first,  hunting  the  "  hin,"  or 
anything,  and  one  of  the  little 
boys  took  the  part  of  the  hen,  with 

the  help  of  a  feather  duster.     The  bell  rang,  and  the  first 
scene  began. 

It   was    a    great   success.       John    Osborne's    Irish   was 


120  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

perfect.  Nobody  guessed  the  word,  for  the  hen  crowed 
by  mistake;  but  it  received  great  applause. 

Mr.  Peterkin  came  on  in  the  second  scene  to  receive 
the  water-rates,  and  made  a  long  speech  on  taxation.  He 
was  interrupted  by  Ann  Maria  as  an  old  woman  in  a  huge 
bonnet.  She  persisted  in  turning  her  back  to  the  audience, 
speaking  so  low  nobody  heard  her;  and  Elizabeth  Eliza, 
who  appeared  in  a  more  remarkable  bonnet,  was  so  alarmed 
she  went  directly  back,  saying  she  had  forgotten  something. 
But  this  was  supposed  to  be  the  effect  intended,  and  it 
was  loudly  cheered. 

Then  came  a  long  delay,  for  the  little  boys  brought 
out  a  number  of  their  friends  to  be  browned  for  Hindoos. 
Ann  Maria  played  on  the  piano  till  the  scene  was  ready. 
The  curtain  rose  upon  five  brown  boys  done  up  in  blankets 
and  turbans. 

"I  am  thankful  that  is  over,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza, 
"for  now  we  can  act  my  word.  Only  I  don't  myself 
know  the  whole." 

"  Never  mind,  let  us  act  it,"  said  John  Osborne,  "  and 
the  audience  can  guess  the  whole." 

"The  first  syllable  must  be  the  letter  P,"  said  Eliza- 
oeth  Eliza,  "and  we  must  have  a  school." 

Agamemnon  was  master,  and  the  little  boys  and  their 
friends  went  on  as  scholars.  All  the  boys  talked  and 
shouted  at  once,  acting  their  idea  of  a  school  by  flinging 
pea-nuts  about,  and  scoffing  at  the  master. 


THE    PETERKINS'    CHARADES. 


121 


"  They'll    guess   that  to  be  '  row,' "  said   John    Osborne, 
in     despair-    "they'll   never   guess 
<P'!" 

The  next  scene  was  gorgeous. 
Solomon  John,  as  a  Turk,  reclined 
on  John  Osborne's  army-blanket. 
He  had  on  a  turban,  and  a  long 
beard,  and  all  the  family  shawls. 
Ann  Maria  and  Elizabeth  Eliza 
were  brought  in  to  him,  veiled,  by 
the  little  boys  in  their  Hindoo 
costumes. 

This  was  considered  the  great  scene  of  the  evening, 
though  Elizabeth  Eliza  was  sure  she  did  not  know  what 
to  do,  —  whether  to  kneel  or  sit  down;  she  did  not  know 
whether  Turkish  women  did  sit  down,  and  she  could  not 
help  laughing  whenever  she  looked  at  Solomon  John.  He, 
however,  kept  his  solemnity.  "I  suppose  I  need  not  say 
much,"  he  had  said,  "  for  I  shall  be  the  f  Turk  who  was 
dreaming  of  the  hour.' '  But  he  did  order  the  little  boys 
to  bring  sherbet,  and  when  they  brought  it  without  ice 
insisted  they  must  have  their  heads  cut  off,  and  Ann 
Maria  fainted,  and  the  scene  closed. 

*What  are  we  to  do  now?"  asked  John  Osborne, 
warming  up  to  the  occasion. 

?We  must  have  an  'inn'  scene,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza, 
consulting  her  letter;  c*  two  inns,  if  we  can." 


122  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

:'"We  will  have  some  travellers  disgusted  with  one 
inn,  and  going  to  another/'  said  John  Osborne. 

"  Now  is  the  time  for  the 
bandboxes/'  said  Solomon  John, 
who,  since  his  Turk  scene  was 
over,  could  give  his  attention  to 
the  rest  of  the  charade. 

Elizabeth     Eliza    and     Ann 

Maria  went  on  as  rival  hostesses,  trying  to  draw  Solomon 
John,  Agamemnon,  and  John  Osborne  into  their  several 
inns.  The  little  boys  carried  valises,  hand-bags,  umbrellas, 
and  bandboxes.  Bandbox  after  bandbox  appeared,  and 
when  Agamemnon  sat  down  upon  his  the  applause  was 
immense.  At  last  the  curtain  fell. 

"Now  for  the  whole,"  said  John  Osborne,  as  he  made 
his  way  off  the  stage  over  a  heap  of  umbrellas. 

"I  can't  think  why  the  lady  from  Philadelphia  did 
not  send  me  the  whole,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  musing 
over  the  letter. 

"Listen,     they     are     guessing,"     said     John     Osborne. 
• '  D-ice-lox?     I  don't   wonder   they   get   it   wrong." 

rc  But  we  know  it  can't  be  that !  "  exclaimed  Elizabeth 
Eliza,  in  agony.  "  How  can  we  act  the  whole  if  we  don't 
know  it  ourselves?" 

"Oh,  I  see  it!"  said  Ann  Maria,  clapping  her  hands. 
w  Get  your  whole  family  in  for  the  last  scene." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peterkin  were  summoned  to  the  stage, 
and  formed  the  background,  standing  on  stools;  in  front 


THE   PETERKIN&    CHARADES.  123 

were  Agamemnon  and  Solomon  John,  leaving  room  for 
Elizabeth  Eliza  between;  a  little  in  advance,  and  in  front 
of  all,  half  kneeling,  were  the  little  boys,  in  their  india- 
rubber  boots. 

The  audience  rose  to  an  exclamation  of  delight,  "The 
Peterkins  !  "  w  P-Turk-Inns !  " 

It  was  not  until  this  moment  that  Elizabeth  Eliza 
guessed  the  whole. 

'What  a  tableau!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Bromwick;  "the 
Peterkin  family  guessing  their  own  charade." 


124 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE    PETERKINS    ARE    OBLIGED    TO    MOVE. 


had  long  felt  it  an  impro- 
priety to  live  in  a  house  that  was 
called  a  "  semi-detached  "  house,  when 
there  was  no  other  "  semi "  to  it.  It 
had  always  remained  wholly  detached, 
as  the  owner  had  never  built  the 
other  half.  Mrs.  Peterkin  felt  this 
was  not  a  sufficient  reason  for  un- 
dertaking the  terrible  process  of  a 
move  to  another  house,  when  they  were  fully  satisfied 
with  the  one  they  were  in. 

But  a  more  powerful  reason  forced  them  to  go.  The 
track  of  a  new  railroad  had  to  be  carried  directly  through 
the  place,  and  a  station  was  to  be  built  on  that  very 
spot. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  so  much  dreaded  moving  that  she  ques- 
tioned whether  they  could  not  continue  to  live  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  house  and  give  up  the  lower  part  to 
the  station.  They  could  then  dine  at  the  restaurant,  and 
it  would  be  very  convenient  about  travelling,  as  there 
would  be  no  danger  of  missing  the  train,  if  one  were 
sure  of  the  direction. 


THE  PETERKINS  ARE    OBLIGED    TO   MOVE.          125 

But  when  the  track  was  actually  laid  by  the  side  of 
the  house,  and  the  steam-engine  of  the  construction  train 
puffed  and  screamed  under  the  dining-room  windows,  and 
the  engineer  calmly  looked  in  to  see  what  the  family  had 
for  dinner,  she  felt,  indeed,  that  they  must  move. 

But  where  should  they  go?  It  was  difficult  to  find 
a  house  that  satisfied  the  whole  family.  One  was  too  far 
off,  and  looked  into  a  tan-pit;  another  was  too  much  in 
the  middle  of  the  town,  next  door  to  a  machine-shop. 
Elizabeth  Eliza  wanted  a  porch  covered  with  vines,  that 
should  face  the  sunset;  while  Mr.  Peterkin  thought  it 
would  not  be  convenient  to  sit  there  looking  towards  the 
west  in  the  late  afternoon  (which  was  his  only  leisure 
time),  for  the  sun  would  shine  in  his  face.  The  little 
boys  wanted  a  house  with  a  great  many  doors,  so  that 
they  could  go  in  and  out  often.  But  Mr.  Peterkin  did 
not  like  so  much  slamming,  and  felt  there  was  more 
danger  of  burglars  with  so  many  doors.  Agamemnon 
wanted  an  observatory,  and  Solomon  John  a  shed  for 
a  workshop.  If  he  could  have  carpenters'  tools  and  a 
workbench  he  could  build  an  observatory,  if  it  were 
wanted. 

But  it  was  necessary  to  decide  upon  something,  for 
they  must  leave  their  house  directly.  So  they  were  obliged 
to  take  Mr.  Finch's,  at  the  Corners.  It  satisfied  none  of 
the  family.  .  The  porch  was  a  piazza,  and  was  opposite  a 
barn.  There  were  three  other  doors,  —  too  many  to  please 
Mr.  Peterkin,  and  not  enough  for  the  little  boys.  There 


126 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


was   no   observatory,  and  nothing  to  observe    if  there  were 

one,  as  the  house  was  too  low, 
and  some  high  trees  shut  out  any 
view.  Elizabeth  Eliza  had  hoped 
for  a  view;  but  Mr.  Peterkin  con- 
soled her  by  deciding  it  was  more 
healthy  to  have  to  walk  for  a  view, 
and  Mrs.  Peterkin  agreed  that  they  might  get  tired  of 
the  same  every  day. 

And  everybody  was  glad  a  selection 
was  made,  and  the  little  boys  carried 
their  india-rubber  boots  the  very  first 
afternoon. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  wanted  to  have  some 
system  in  the  moving,  and  spent  the 
evening  in  drawing  up  a  plan.  It  would 
be  easy  to  arrange  everything  beforehand, 
so  that  there  should  not  be  the  con- 
fusion that  her  mother  dreaded,  and  the  discomfort  they 
had  in  their  last  move.  Mrs.  Peterkin  shook  her  head; 
she  did  not  think  it  possible  to  move  with 
any  comfort.  Agamemnon  said  a  great  deal 
could  be  done  with  a  list  and  a  programme. 
Elizabeth  Eliza  declared  if  all  were 
well  arranged  a  programme  would  make  it 
perfectly  easy.  They  were  to  have  new 
parlor  carpets,  which  could  be  put  down 
house  the  first  thing.  Then  the  parlor 


in    the    new 


THE   PETERKINS  ARE    OBLIGED    TO   MOVE.          127 

furniture  could  be  moved  in,  and  there  would  be  two 
comfortable  rooms,  in  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peterkin  could 
sit  while  the  rest  of  the  move  went  on.  Then  the  old 
parlor  carpets  could  be  taken  up  for  the  new  dining-room 
and  the  downstairs  bedroom,  and  the  family  could  mean- 
while dine  at  the  old  house.  Mr.  Peterkin  did  not  object 
to  this,  though  the  distance  was  considerable,  as  he  felt 
exercise  would  be  good  for  them  all.  Elizabeth  Eliza's 
programme  then  arranged  that  the  dining-room  furniture 
should  be  moved  the  third  day,  by  which  time  one  of  the 
old  parlor  carpets  would  be  down  in  the  new  dining-room, 
and  they  could  still  sleep  in  the  old  house.  Thus  there 
would  always  be  a  quiet,  comfortable  place  in  one  house 
or  the  other.  Each  night,  when  Mr.  Peterkin  came  home, 
he  would  find  some  place  for  quiet  thought  and  rest,  and 
each  day  there  should  be  moved  only  the  furniture  needed 
for  a  certain  room.  Great  confusion  would  be  avoided 
and  nothing  misplaced.  Elizabeth  Eliza  wrote  these  last 
words  at  the  head  of  her  programme,  — "  Misplace  noth- 
ing." And  Agamemnon  made  a  copy  of  the  programme 
for  each  member  of  the  family. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  buy  the  parlor 
carpets.  Elizabeth  Eliza  had  already  looked  at  some  in 
Boston,  and  the  next  morning  she  went,  by  an  early 
train,  with  her  father,  Agamemnon,  and  Solomon  John, 
to  decide  upon  them. 

They  got  home  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  when  they 
reached  the  house  were  dismayed  to  find  two  furniture 


128 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


wagons  in  front  of  the  gate,  already  partly  filled!  Mrs. 
Peterkin  was  walking  in  and  out  of 
the  open  door,  a  large  book  in  one 
hand,  and  a  duster  in  the  other,  and 
she  came  to  meet  them  in  an  agony 
of  anxiety.  What  should  they  do? 
The  furniture  carts  had  appeared  soon 
after  the  rest  had  left  for  Boston,  and 
the  men  had  insisted  upon  beginning  to 
move  the  things.  In  vain  had  she  shown 
Elizabeth  Eliza's  programme;  in  vain  had  she  insisted  they 
must  take  only  the  parlor  furniture.  They  had  declared 
they  must  put  the  heavy  pieces  in  the  bottom  of  the  cart, 
and  the  lighter  furniture  on  top.  So  she  had  seen  them 
go  into  every  room  in  the  house,  and  select  one  piece 
of  furniture  after  another,  without  even 
looking  at  Elizabeth  Eliza's  programme; 
she  doubted  if  they  could  have  read  it  if 
they  had  looked  at  it. 

Mr.  Peterkin  had  ordered  the  carters 
to  come;  but  he  had  no  idea  they  would 
come  so  early,  and  supposed  it  would  take 
them  a  long  time  to  fill  the  carts. 

But  they  had  taken  the  dining-room  sideboard  first, — 
a  heavy  piece  of  furniture,  —  and  all  its  contents  were  now 
on  the  dining-room  tables.  Then,  indeed,  they  selected 
the  parlor  book-case,  but  had  set  every  book  on  the  floor. 
The  men  had  told  Mrs.  Peterkin  they  would  put  the  books 


THE   PETERKINS  ARE    OBLIGED    TO  MOVE.          129 

in  the  bottom  of  the  cart,  very  much  in  the  order  they 
were  taken  from  the  shelves.  But  by  this  time  Mrs. 
Peterkin  was  considering  the  carters  as  natural  enemies, 
and  dared  not  trust  them;  besides,  the  books  ought  all  to 
be  dusted.  So  she  was  now  holding  one  of  the  volumes 
of  Agamemnon's  Encyclopaedia,  with  difficulty,  in  one 
hand,  while  she  was  dusting  it  with  the  other.  Elizabeth 
Eliza  was  in  dismay.  At  this  moment  four  men  were 
bringing  down  a  large  chest  of  drawers  from  her  father's 
room,  and  they  called  to  her  to  stand  out  of  the  way. 
The  parlors  were  a  scene  of  confusion.  In  dusting  the 
books  Mrs.  Peterkin  neglected  to  restore  them  to  the 
careful  rows  in  which  they  were  left  by  the  men,  and  they 
lay  in  hopeless  masses  in  different  parts  of  the  room.  Eliza- 
beth Eliza  sunk  in  despair  upon  the  end  of  a  sofa. 

w  It  would  have  been  better  to  buy  the  red  and  blue 
carpet,"  said  Solomon  John. 

"Is  not  the  carpet  bought?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin.  And  then  they  were  obliged  to  confess  they  had 
been  unable  to  decide  upon  one,  and  had  come  back  to 
consult  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

"What  shall  we  do?"  asked  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  rose  from  the  sofa  and  went  to  the 
door,  saying,  "I  shall  be  back  in  a  moment." 

Agamemnon  slowly  passed  round  the  room,  collecting 
the  scattered  volumes  of  his  Encyclopaedia.  Mr.  Peterkin 
offered  a  helping  hand  to  a  man  lifting  a  wardrobe. 

Elizabeth   Eliza  soon   returned.     w  I   did  not  like  to  go 


130  THE   PETERKIN   PAPERS. 

and  ask  her.  But  I  felt  that  I  must  in  such  an  emer- 
gency. I  explained  to  her  the  whole  matter,  and  she 
thinks  we  should  take  the  carpet  at  Makillan's." 

w  Makillan's "  was  a  store  in  the  village,  and  the  carpet 
was  the  only  one  all  the  family  had  liked  without  any 
doubt;  but  they  had  supposed  they  might  prefer  one  from 
Boston. 

The  moment  was  a  critical  one.  Solomon  John  was 
sent  directly  to  Makillan's  to  order  the  carpet  to  be  put 
down  that  very  day.  But  where  should  they  dine?  where 
should  they  have  their  supper?  and  where  was  Mr.  Peter- 
kin's  w  quiet  hour "  ?  Elizabeth  Eliza  was  frantic ;  the 
dining-room  floor  and  table  were  covered  with  things. 

It  was  decided  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peterkin  should 
dine  at  the  Bromwicks,  who  had  been  most  neighborly 
in  their  offers,  and  the  rest  should  get  something  to  eat 
at  the  baker's. 

Agamemnon  and  Elizabeth  Eliza  hastened  away  to  be 
ready  to  receive  the  carts  at  the  other  house,  and  direct 
the  furniture  as  they  could.  After  all  there  was  some- 
thing exhilarating  in  this  opening  of  the  new  house,  and 
in  deciding  where  things  should  go.  Gayly  Elizabeth 
Eliza  stepped  down  the  front  garden  of  the  new  home? 
and  across  the  piazza,  and  to  the  door.  But  it  was  locked, 
and  she  had  no  keys! 

"Agamemnon,  did  you  bring  the  keys?"  she  exclaimed. 

No,  he  had  not  seen  them  since  the  morning,  —  when 
—  ah! — yes,  the  little  boys  were  allowed  to  go  to  the  house 


THE  PETERKINS  ARE   OBLIGED    TO  MOVE. 

for  their  india-rubber  boots,  as  there  was  a  threatening  of 
rain.  Perhaps  they  had  left  some  door  unfastened  —  per- 
haps they  had  put  the  keys  under  the  door-mat.  No, 
each  door,  each  window,  was  solidly  closed,  and  there  was 
no  mat! 

"I  shall  have  to  go  to  the  school  to  see  if  they 
took  the  keys  with  them,"  said  Agamemnon;  "or  else 
go  home  to  see  if  they  left  them  there."  The  school 
was  in  a  different  direction  from  the  house,  and  far  at 
the  other  end  of  the  town;  for  Mr.  Peterkin  had  not  yet 
changed  the  boys'  school,  as  he  proposed  to  do  after 
their  move. 

"That  will  be  the  only  way,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza; 
for  it  had  been  arranged  that  the  little  boys  should  take 
their  lunch  to  school,  and  not  come  home  at  noon. 

She  sat  down  on  the  steps  to  wait,  but  only  for  a 
moment,  for  the  carts  soon  appeared,  turning  the  corner. 
What  should  be  done  with  the  furniture?  Of  course  the 
carters  must  wait  for  the  keys,  as  she  should  need  them 
to  set  the  furniture  up  in  the  right  places.  But  they 
could  not  stop  for  this.  They  put  it  down  upon  the 
piazza,  on  the  steps,  in  the  garden,  and  Elizabeth  Eliza 
saw  how  incongruous  it  was!  There  was  something  from 
every  room  in  the  house!  Even  the  large  family  chest, 
which  had  proved  too  heavy  for  them  to  travel  with,  had 
come  down  from  the  attic,  and  stood  against  the  front 
door. 

And   Solomon   John   appeared  with  the   carpet  woman, 


132  THE  PETEJIKIN  PAPERS. 

and   a  boy  with   a  wheelbarrow,  bringing  the   new   carpet. 

And  all  stood  and  waited.  Some 
opposite  neighbors  appeared  to  offer 
advice  and  look  on,  and  Elizabeth 
Eliza  groaned  inwardly  that  only 
the  shabbiest  of  their  furniture  ap- 
peared to  be  standing  full  in  view. 
It  seemed  ages  before  Agamemnon  returned,  and  no 
wonder-  for  he  had  been  to  the  house,  then  to  the  school, 
then  back  to  the  house,  for  one  of  the  little  boys  had  left 
the  keys  at  home,  in  the  pocket  of  his  clothes.  Mean- 
while the  carpet-woman  had  waited,  and  the  boy  with  the 
wheelbarrow  had  waited,  and  when  they  got  in  they  found 
the  parlor  must  be  swept  and  cleaned.  So  the  carpet- 
woman  went  off  in  dudgeon,  for  she  was  sure  there  would 
not  be  time  enough  to  do  anything. 

And  one  of  the  carts  came  again,  and  in  their  hurry 
the  men  set  the  furniture  down  anywhere.  Elizabeth  Eliza 
was  hoping  to  make  a  little  place  in  the  dining-room, 
where  they  might  have  their  supper,  and  go  home  to  sleep. 
But  she  looked  out,  and  there  were  the  carters  bringing 
the  bedsteads,  and  proceeding  to  carry  them  upstairs. 

In  despair  Elizabeth  Eliza  went  back  to  the  old  house. 
If  she  had  been  there  she  might  have  prevented  this.  She 
found  Mrs.  Peterkin  in  an  agony  about  the  entry  oil-cloth. 
It  had  been  made  in  the  house,  and  how  could  it  be  taken 
out  of  the  house?  Agamemnon  made  measurements;  it 
certainly  could  not  go  out  of  the  front  door!  He  sug- 


THE   PETgRKINS   ARE    OBLIGED    TO  MOVE.  133 

gested  it  might  be  left  till  the  house  was  pulled  down, 
when  it  could  easily  be  moved  out  of  one  side.  But 
Elizabeth  Eliza  reminded  him  that  the  whole  house  was 
to  be  moved  without  being  taken  apart.  Perhaps  it  could 
be  cut  in  strips  narrow  enough  to  go  out.  One  of  the 
men  loading  the  remaining  cart  disposed  of  the  question 
by  coming  in  and  rolling  up  the  oil-cloth  and  carrying 
it  off  on  top  of  his  wagon. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  felt  she  must  hurry  back  to  the  new 
house.  But  what  should  they  do?  —  no  beds  "here,  no  car- 
pets there!  The  dining-room  table  and  sideboard  were  at 
the  other  house,  the  plates,  and  forks,  and  spoons  here. 
In  vain  she  looked  at  her  programme.  It  was  all  reversed; 
everything  was  misplaced.  Mr.  Peterkin  would  suppose 
they  were  to  eat  here  and  sleep  here,  and  what  had  be- 
come of  the  little  boys? 

Meanwhile  the  man  with  the  first  cart  had  returned. 
They  fell  to  packing  the  dining-room  china. 

They  were  up  in  the  attic,  they  were  down  hi  the 
cellar.  Even  one  suggested  to  take  the  tacks  out  of  the 
parlor  carpets,  as  they  should  want  to  take  them  next. 
Mrs.  Peterkin  sunk  upon  a  kitchen  chair. 

w  Oh,  I  wish  we  had  decided  to  stay  and  be  moved 
in  the  house ! "  she  exclaimed. 

Solomon  John  urged  his  mother  to  go  to  the  new 
house,  for  Mr.  Peterkin  would  be  there  for  his  "quiet 
hour."  And  when  the  carters  at  last  appeared,  carrying 
the  parlor  carpets  on  their  shoulders,  she  sighed  and  said, 


134  THE  PETERKIN  PAPEM$. 

"There   is   nothing   left,"   and   meekly   consented  to  be  led 
away. 

They  reached  the  new  house  to  find  Mr.  Peterkin 
sitting  calmly  in  a  rocking-chair  on  the  piazza,  watching 
the  oxen  coming  into  the  opposite  barn.  He  was  wait- 
ing for  the  keys,  which  Solomon  John  had  taken  back 
with  him.  The  little  boys  were  in  a  horse-chestnut  tree, 
at  the  side  of  the  house. 

Agamemnon  opened  the  door.  The  passages  were 
crowded  with  furniture,  the  floors  were  strewn  with  books; 
the  bureau  was  upstairs  that  was  to  stand  in  a  lower 
bedroom;  there  was  not  a  place  to  lay  a  table,  —  there  was 
nothing  to  lay  upon  it;  for  the  knives  and  plates  ana 
spoons  had  not  come,  and  although  the  tables  were  there 
they  were  covered  with  chairs  and  boxes. 

At  this  moment  came  a  cov- 
ered basket  from  the  lady  from 
Philadelphia.  It  contained  a  choice 
supper,  and  forks  and  spoons,  and 
at  the  same  moment  appeared  a  pot 
of  hot  tea  from  an  opposite  neigh- 
bor. They  placed  all  this  on  the 
back  of  a  bookcase  lying  upset,  and 
sat  around  it.  Solomon  John  came 
rushing  in  from  the  gate. 

"The  last  load  is  coming!  "We  are  all  moved!"  he 
exclaimed;  and  the  little  boys  joined  in  a  chorus,  '  We 
are  moved!  we  are  moved! " 


THE  PETERKINS  ARE   OBLIGED    TO  MOVE.          135 

Mrs.  Peterkin  looked  sadly  round;  the  kitchen  uten- 
sils were  lying  on  the  parlor  lounge,  and  an  old  family 
gun  on  Elizabeth  Eliza's  hat-box.  The  parlor  clock  stood 
on  a  barrel;  some  coal-scuttles  had  been  placed  on  the 
parlor  table,  a  bust  of  Washington  stood  in  the  door-way, 
and  the  looking-glasses  leaned  against  the  pillars  of  the 
piazza.  But  they  were  moved!  Mrs.  Peterkin  felt,  in- 
deed, that  they  were  very  much  moved. 


136 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE    PETERKINS    DECIDE    TO    LEARN    THE 
LANGUAGES. 


EETAINLY  now  was  the  time 
to  study  the  languages.  The 
Peterkins  had  moved  into  a 
new  house,  far  more  conven- 
ient than  their  old  one,  where 
they  would  have  a  place  for 
everything  and  everything  in 
its  place.  Of  course  they 
would  then  have  more  time. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  recalled  the  troubles  of  the  old  house; 
how  for  a  long  time  she  was  obliged  to  sit  outside  of 
the  window  upon  the  piazza,  when  she  wanted  to  play 
on  her  piano. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  reminded  them  of  the  difficulty  about 
the  table-cloths.  The  upper  table-cloth  was  kept  in  a  trunk 
that  had  to  stand  in  front  of  the  door  to  the  closet 
under  the  stairs.  But  the  under  table-cloth  was  kept  in 
a  drawer  in  the  closet.  So,  whenever  the  cloths  were 
changed,  the  trunk  had  to  be  pushed  away  under  some 
projecting  shelves  to  make  room  for  opening  the  closet- 


THE  PETERKINS  STUDY  THE  LANGUAGES.          137 

door  (as  the  under  table-cloth  must  be  taken  out  first), 
then  the  trunk  was  pushed  back  to  make  room  for  it 
to  be  opened  for  the  upper  table-cloth,  and,  after  all,  it 
was  necessary  to  push  the  trunk  away  again  to  open  the 
closet-door  for  the  knife-tray.  This  always  consumed  a 
great  deal  of  time. 

Now  that  the  china-closet  was  large  enough,  every- 
thing could  find  a  place  in  it. 

Agamemnon  especially  enjoyed  the  new  library.  In 
the  old  house  there  was  no  separate  room  for  books. 
The  dictionaries  were  kept  upstairs,  which  was  very  in- 
convenient, and  the  volumes  of  the  Encyclopaedia  could 
not  be  together.  There  was  not  room  for  all  in  one 
place.  So  from  A  to  P  were  to  be  found  downstairs, 
and  from  Q  to  Z  were  scattered  in  different  rooms 
upstairs.  And  the  worst  of  it  was,  you  could  never 
remember  whether  from  A  to  P  included  P.  w  I  always 
went  upstairs  after  P,"  said  Agamemnon,  "and  then 
always  found  it  downstairs,  or  else  it  was  the  other 
way." 

Of  course,  now  there  were  more  conveniences  for 
study.  With  the  books  all  in  one  room  there  would  be 
no  time  wasted  in  looking  for  them. 

Mr.  Peterkin  suggested  they  should  each  take  a 
separate  language.  If  they  went  abroad  this  would  prove 
a  great  convenience.  Elizabeth  Eliza  could  talk  French 
with  the  Parisians;  Agamemnon,  German  with  the  Ger- 
mans; Solomon  John,  Italian  with  the  Italians;  Mrs.  Peter- 


138  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

kin,  Spanish  in  Spain;  and  perhaps  he  could  himself 
master  all  the  Eastern  languages  and  Russian. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  uncertain  about  undertaking  the 
Spanish;  but  all  the  family  felt  very  sure  they  should  not 
go  to  Spain  (as  Elizabeth  Eliza  dreaded  the  Inquisition), 
and  Mrs.  Peterkin  felt  more  willing. 

Still  she  had  quite  an  objection  to  going  abroad.  She 
had  always  said  she  would  not  go  till  a  bridge  was  made 
across  the  Atlantic,  and  she  was  sure  it  did  not  look  like 
it  now. 

Agamemnon  said  there  was  no  knowing.  There  was 
something  new  every  day,  and  a  bridge  was  surely  not 
harder  to  invent  than  a  telephone,  for  they  had  bridges 
in  the  very  earliest  days. 

Then  came  up  the  question  of  the  teachers.  Probably 
these  could  be  found  in  Boston.  If  they  could  all  come 
the  same  day  three  could  be  brought  out  in  the  carryall. 
Agamemnon  could  go  in  for  them,  and  could  learn  a  little 
on  the  way  out  and  in. 

Mr.  Peterkin  made  some  inquiries  about  the  Oriental 
languages.  He  was  told  that  Sanscrit  was  at  the  root 
of  all.  So  he  proposed  they  should  all  begin  with  Sanscrit. 
They  would  thus  require  but  one  teacher,  and  could  branch 
out  into  the  other  languages  afterward. 

But  the  family  preferred  learning  the  separate  languages. 
Elizabeth  Eliza  already  knew  something  of  the  French. 
She  had  tried  to  talk  it,  without  much  success,  at  the  Cen- 
tennial Exhibition,  at  one  of  the  side-stands.  But  she 


THE  PETERKINS  STUDY    THE  LANGUAGES.          139 

found  she  had  been  talking  with  a  Moorish  gentleman 
who  did  not  understand  French.  Mr.  Peterkin  feared  they 
might  need  more  libraries  if  all  the  teachers  came  at  the 
same  hour;  but  Agamemnon  reminded  him  that  they  would 
be  using  different  dictionaries.  And  Mr.  Peterkin  thought 
something  might  be  learned  by  having  them  all  at  once. 
Each  one  might  pick  up  something  beside  the  language 
he  was  studying,  and  it  was  a  great  thing  to  learn  to  talk 
a  foreign  language  while  others  were  talking  about  you. 
Mrs.  Peterkin  was  afraid  it  would  be  like  the  Tower  of 
Babel,  and  hoped  it  was  all  right. 

Agamemnon  brought  forward  another  difficulty.  Of 
course  they  ought  to  have  foreign  teachers,  who  spoke 
only  their  native  languages.  But,  in  this  case,  how  could 
they  engage  them  to  come,  or  explain  to  them  about  the 
carryall,  or  arrange  the  proposed  hours?  He  did  not  under- 
stand how  anybody  ever  began  with  a  foreigner,  because 
he  could  not  even  tell  him  what  he  wanted. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  thought  a  great  deal  might  be  done 
by  signs  and  pantomime.  Solomon  John  and  the  little 
boys  began  to  show  how  it  might  be  done.  Elizabeth 
Eliza  explained  how  ^langues"  meant  both  "languages" 
and  "  tongues,"  and  they  could  point  to  their  tongues.  For 
practice,  the  little  boys  represented  the  foreign  teachers 
talking  in  their  different  languages,  and  Agamemnon  and 
Solomon  John  went  to  invite  them  to  come  out  and  teach 
the  family  by  a  series  of  signs. 

Mr.   Peterkin  thought  their  success  was  admirable,  and 


140  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

that  they  might  almost  go  abroad  without  any  study  of 
the  languages,  and  trust  to  explaining  themselves  by  signs. 
Still,  as  the  bridge  was  not  yet  made,  it  might  be  as  well 
to  wait  and  cultivate  the  languages. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  afraid  the  foreign  teachers  might 
imagine  they  were  invited  out  to  lunch.  Solomon  John 
had  constantly  pointed  to  his  mouth  as  he  opened  it  and 
shut  it,  putting  out  his  tongue;  and  it  looked  a  great 
deal  more  as  if  he  were  inviting  them  to  eat  than  ask- 
ing them  to  teach.  Agamemnon  suggested  that  they  might 
carry  the  separate  dictionaries  when  they  went  to  see  the 
teachers,  and  that  would  show  that  they  meant  lessons, 
and  not  lunch. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  not  sure  but  she  ought  to  prepare 
a  lunch  for  them,  if  they  had  come  all  that  way;  but 
she  certainly  did  not  know  what  they  were  accustomed 
to  eat. 

Mr.  Peterkin  thought  this  would  be  a  good  thing  to 
learn  of  the  foreigners.  It  would  be  a  good  preparation 
for  going  abroad,  and  they  might  get  used  to  the  dishes 
before  starting.  The  little  boys  were  delighted  at  the  idea 
of  having  new  things  cooked.  Agamemnon  had  heard  that 
beer-soup  was  a  favorite  dish  with  the  Germans,  and  he 
would  inquire  how  it  was  made  in  the  first  lesson.  Solo- 
mon John  had  heard  they  were  all  very  fond  of  garlic, 
and  thought  it  would  be  a  pretty  attention  to  have  some 
in  the  house  the  first  day,  that  they  might  be  cheered 
by  the  odor. 


THE  PETERKINS  STUDY    THE  LANGUAGES. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  wanted  to  surprise  the  lady  from  Phila- 
delphia by  her  knowledge  of  French,  and  hoped  to  begin 
on  her  lessons  before  the  Philadelphia  family  arrived  for 
their  annual  visit. 

There  were  still  some  delays.  Mr.  Peterkin  was  very 
anxious  to  obtain  teachers  who  had  been  but  a  short  time 
in  this  country.  He  did  not  want  to  be  tempted  to  talk 
any  English  with  them.  He  wanted  the  latest  and  freshest 
languages,  and  at  last  came  home  one  day  with  a  list  of 
"brand-new  foreigners." 

They  decided  to  borrow  the  Bromwicks'  carryall  to 
use,  beside  their  own,  for  the  first  day,  and  Mr.  Peter- 
kin  and  Agamemnon  drove  into  town  to  bring  all  the 
teachers  out.  One  was  a  Russian  gentleman,  travelling, 
who  came  with  no  idea  of  giving  lessons,  but  perhaps 
he  would  consent  to  do  so.  He  could  not  yet  speak 
English. 

Mr.  Peterkin  had  his  card-case,  and  the  cards  of  the 
several  gentlemen  who  had  recommended  the  different 
teachers,  and  he  went  with  Agamemnon  from  hotel  to 
hotel  collecting  them.  He  found  them  all  very  polite,  and 
ready  to  come,  after  the  explanation  by  signs  agreed 
upon.  The  dictionaries  had  been  forgotten,  but  Agamem- 
non had  a  directory,  which  looked  the  same,  and  seemed 
to  satisfy  the  foreigners. 

Mr.  Peterkin  was  obliged  to  content  himself  with  the 
Russian  instead  of  one  who  could  teach  Sanscrit,  as  there 
was  no  new  teacher  of  that  language  lately  arrived. 


142 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


But  there  was  an  unexpected  difficulty  in  getting  the 
Russian  gentleman  into  the  same  car- 
riage with  the  teacher  of  Arabic,  for 
he  was  a  Turk,  sitting  with  a  fez  on 
his  head,  on  the  back  seat!  They 
glared  at  each  other,  and  began  to 
assail  each  other  in  every  language 
they  knew,  none  of  which  Mr. 
Peterkin  could  understand.  It  might 
be  Russian;  it  might  be  Arabic. 
It  was  easy  to  understand  that  they 
would  never  consent  to  sit  in  the 
carriage.  Mr.  Peterkin  was  in  despair;  he  had 

forgotten    about    the    Russian    war!      What   a   mistake    to 

have   invited  the   Turk! 

Quite   a   crowd   collected   on   the    sidewalk   in  front  of 

the   hotel.      But    the    French    gentleman 

politely,   but   stiffly,    invited   the    Russian 

to    go    with    him    in    the    first    carryall. 

Here     was     another    difficulty.     For    the 

German   professor  was   quietly   ensconced 

on     the    back    seat!       As    soon    as    the 

French  .gentleman   put   his   foot    on    the 

step   and   saw   him   he    addressed  him    in 

such   forcible   language   that   the  German 

professor   got   out   of  the   door  the  other 

side,    and    came    round    on    the    sidewalk    and    took    him 

by  the   collar.       Certainly   the    German    and    French   gen- 


THE   PETERKINS  STUDY    THE  LANGUAGES.          143 

tlemen  could  not  be  put  together,  and  more  crowd  col- 
lected ! 

Agamemnon,  however,  had  happily  studied  up  the 
German  word  "Herr,"  and  he  ap- 
plied it  to  the  German,  inviting 
him  by  signs  to  take  a  seat  in 
the  other  carryall.  The  German 
consented  to  sit  by  the  Turk,  as 
they  neither  of  them  could  under- 
stand  the  other;  and  at  last  they 
started,  Mr.  Peterkin  with  the 
Italian  by  his  side,  and  the  French 

and  Russian  teachers  behind,  vociferating  to  each  other  in 
languages  unknown  to  Mr.  Peterkin,  while  he  feared  they 
were  not  perfectly  in  harmony;  so  he  drove  home  as  fast 
as  possible.  Agamemnon  had  a  silent  party.  The  Span- 
iard by  his  side  was  a  little  moody,  while  the  Turk  and 
the  German  behind  did  not  utter  a  word. 

At  last  they  reached  the  house, 
and  were  greeted  by  Mrs.  Peterkin 
and  Elizabeth  Eliza,  Mrs.  Peterkin 
with  her  llama  lace  shawl  over  her 
shoulders,  as  a  tribute  to  the  Spanish 
teacher.  Mr.  Peterkin  was  careful  to 
take  his  party  in  first,  and  deposit 
them  in  a  distant  part  of  the  library, 
far  from  the  Turk  or  the  German, 
even  putting  the  Frenchman  and  Russian  apart. 


144 


THE   PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


Solomon  John  found  the  Italian  dictionary,  and  seated 
himself  by  his  Italian;  Agamemnon,  with  the  German  dic- 
tionary, by  the  German.  The  little  boys  took  their  copy 
of  the  "Arabian  Nights"  to  the  Turk.  Mr.  Peterkin 
attempted  to  explain  to  the  Russian  that  he  had  no 
Russian  dictionary,  as  he  had  hoped  to  learn  Sanscrit 
of  him,  while  Mrs.  Peterkin  was  trying  to  inform  her 
teacher  that  she  had  no  books  in  Span- 
ish. She  got  over  all  fears  of  the 
Inquisition,  he  looked  so  sad,  and 
she  tried  to  talk  a  little,  using  Eng- 
lish words,  but  very  slowly,  and  alter- 
ing the  accent  as  far  as  she  knew  how. 
The  Spaniard  bowed,  looked  gravely 
interested,  and  was  very  polite. 

Elizabeth  Eliza,  meanwhile,  was 
trying  her  grammar  phrases  with  the 
Parisian.  She  found  it  easier  to  talk 
French  than  to  understand  him.  But  he  understood  per- 
fectly her  sentences.  She  repeated  one  of  her  vocabula- 
ries, and  went  on  with,  "  J'ai  le  lime"  "  As-tu  le  pain?" 
w L 'enfant  a  une  poire"  He  listened  with  great  attention, 
and  replied  slowly.  Suddenly  she  started  after  making  out 
one  of  his  sentences,  and  went  to  her  mother  to  whisper, 
"They  have  made  the  mistake  you  feared.  They  think 
they  are  invited  to  lunch!  He  has  just  been  thanking 
me  for  our  politeness  in  inviting  them  to  dejeuner,  — 
that  means  breakfast!  " 


THE  PETERKINS  STUDY    THE  LANGUAGES. 


145 


"  They  have   not   had  their  breakfast !  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Peterkin,   looking   at   her,    Spaniard; 
"he  does  look  hungry!     What  shall 
we    do?" 

Elizabeth  Eliza  was  consulting 
her  father.  What  should  they  do? 
How  should  they  make  them  under- 
stand that  they  invited  them  to 
teach,  not  lunch.  Elizabeth  Eliza 
begged  Agamemnon  to  look  out 
w  apprendre "  in  the  dictionary.  It 

must  mean  to  teach.  Alas,  they  found  it  means  both*  to 
teach  and  to  learn!  What  should  they  do?  The  for- 
eigners were  now  sitting  silent  in  their  different  corners. 
The  Spaniard  grew  more  and  more  sallow.  What  if  he 
should  faint?  The  Frenchman  was  rolling  up  each  of  his 
mustaches  to  a  point  as  he  gazed  at  the  German.  What 
if  the  Russian  should  fight  the  Turk?  What  if  the 
German  should  be  exasperated  by  the  airs  of  the  Pa- 
risian? 

cWe  must  give  them  something  to  eat,"  said  Mr. 
Peterkin,  in  a  low  tone.  f?It  would  calm  them." 

w  If  I  only  knew  what  they  were  used  to  eating," 
said  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

Solomon  John  suggested  that  none  of  them  knew 
what  the  others  were  used  to  eating,  and  they  might 
bring  in  anything. 


146  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  hastened  out  with  hospitable  intents. 
Amanda  could  make  good  coffee.  Mr.  Peterkin  had  sug- 
gested some  American  dish.  Solomon  John  sent  a  little 
boy  for  some  olives. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  coffee  came  in,,  and  a 
dish  of  baked  beans.  Next,  some  olives  and  a  loaf  of 
bread,  and  some  boiled  eggs,  and  some  bottles  of  beer. 
The  effect  was  astonishing.  Every  man  spoke  his  own 
tongue,  and  fluently.  Mrs.  Peterkin  poured  out  coffee  for 
the  Spaniard,  while  he  bowed  to  her.  They  all  liked 
beer;  they  all  liked  olives.  The  Frenchman  was  fluent 
abtmt  w  les  mceurs  Americaines"  Elizabeth  Eliza  supposed 
he  alluded  to  their  not  having  set  any  table.  The  Turk 
smiled;  the  Russian  was  voluble.  In  the  midst  of  the 
clang  of  the  different  languages,  just  as  Mr.  Peterkin  was 
again  repeating,  under  cover  of  the  noise  of  many  tongues, 
"How  shall  we  make  them  understand  that  we  want 
them  to  teach? "  —  at  this  very  moment  the  door  was 
flung  open,  and  there  came  in  the  lady  from  Philadel- 
phia, that  day  arrived,  her  first  call  of  the  season. 

She  started  back  in  terror  at  the  tumult  of  so  many 
different  languages.  The  family,  with  joy,  rushed  to  meet 
her.  All  together  they  called  upon  her  to  explain  for 
them.  Could  she  help  them?  Could  she  tell  the  foreign- 
ers they  wanted  to  take  lessons?  Lessons?  They  had  no 
sooner  uttered  the  word  than  their  guests  all  started  up 
with  faces  beaming  with  joy.  It  was  the  one  English 


THE  PETERKINS  STUDY  THE  LANGUAGES.          147 

word  they  all  knew!  They  had  come  to  Boston  to  give 
lessons!  The  Russian  traveller  had  hoped  to  learn  English 
in  this  way,  The  thought  pleased  them  more  than  the 
dejeuner.  Yes,  gladly  would  they  give  lessons.  The  Turk 
smiled  at  the  idea.  The  first  step  was  taken.  The  teach- 
ers knew  they  were  expected  to  teach. 


148 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


MODERN    IMPROVEMENTS    AT    THE    PETERKINS'. 


GAMEMJSTON   felt    that  it  became   necessary 
for   him   to    choose   a   profession.     It 
was     important     on    account    of    the 
little    boys.       If   he    should    make    a 
trial   of    several   different    professions 
he   could    find   out    which   would    be 
the   most  likely  to  be  successful,  and 
it   would   then   be    easy   to   bring   up 
the   little  boys    in  the  right  direction. 
Elizabeth    Eliza   agreed   with    this.      She   thought   the 
family    occasionally    made    mistakes,    and    had    come    near 
disgracing    themselves.      Now    was    their   chance    to    avoid 
this    in    future    by   giving    the    little    boys   a   proper    edu- 
cation. 

Solomon  John  was  almost  determined  to  become  a 
doctor.  From  earliest  childhood  he  had  practised  writing 
recipes  on  little  slips  of  paper.  Mrs.  Peterkin,  to  be  sure, 
was  afraid  of  infection.  She  could  not  bear  the  idea  of 
his  bringing  one  disease  after  the  other  into  the  family 
circle.  Solomon  John,  too,  did  not  like  sick  people.  He 
thought  he  might  manage  it  if  he  should  not  have  to 


MODERN  IMPROVEMENTS  AT   THE  PETERK1N&.     149 

see  his  patients  while  they  were  sick.  If  he  could  only 
visit  them  when  they  were  recovering,  and  when  the 
danger  of  infection  was  over,  he  would  really  enjoy  mak- 
ing calls. 

He  should  have  a  comfortable  doctor's  chaise,  and 
take  one  of  the  little  boys  to  hold 
his  horse  while  he  went  in,  and 
he  thought  he  could  get  through 
the  conversational  part  very  well, 
and  feeling  the  pulse,  perhaps 
looking  at  the  tongue.  He  should 

take  and  read  all  the  newspapers,  and  so  be  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  news  of  the  day  to  talk  of.  But  he 
should  not  like  to  be  waked  up  at  night  to  visit.  Mr. 
Peterkin  thought  that  would  not  be  necessary.  He  had 
seen  signs  on  doors  of  K  Night  Doctor,"  and  certainly  it 
would  be  as  convenient  to  have  a  sign  of  "Not  a  Night 
Doctor." 

Solomon  John  thought  he  might  write  his  advice  to 
those  of  his  patients  who  were  dangerously  ill,  from  whom 
there  was  danger  of  infection.  And  then  Elizabeth  Eliza 
agreed  that  his  prescriptions  would  probably  be  so  satis- 
factory that  they  would  keep  his  patients  well,  —  not  too 
well  to  do  without  a  doctor,  but  needing  his  recipes. 

Agamemnon  was  delayed,  however,  in  his  choice  of 
a  profession,  by  a  desire  he  had  to  become  a  famous  in- 
ventor. If  he  could  only  invent  something  important,  and 
get  out  a  patent,  he  would  make  himself  known  all  over 


150  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

the  country.  If  he  could  get  out  a  patent  he  would  be 
set  up  for  life,  or  at  least  as  long  as  the  patent  lasted, 
and  it  would  be  well  to  be  sure  to  arrange  it  to  last 
through  his  natural  life. 

Indeed,  he  had  gone  so  far  as  to  make  his  invention. 
It  had  been  suggested  by  their  trouble  with  a  key,  in 
their  late  moving  to  their  new  house.  He  had  studied 
the  matter  over  a  great  deal.  He  looked  it  up  in  the 
Encyclopaedia,  and  had  spent  a  day  or  two  in  the  Public 
Library,  in  reading  about  Chubb's  Lock  and  other  patent 
locks. 

But  his  plan  was  more  simple.  It  was  this:  that  all 
keys  should  be  made  alike!  He  wondered  it  had  not 
been  thought  of  before;  but  so  it  was,  Solomon  John 
said,  with  all  inventions,  with  Christopher  Columbus,  and 
everybody.  Nobody  knew  the  invention  till  it  was  in- 
vented, and  then  it  looked  very  simple.  With  Agamem- 
non's plan  you  need  have  but  one  key,  that  should  fit 
everything!  It  should  be  a  medium- 
sized  key,  not  too  large  to  carry.  It 
ought  to  answer  for  a  house  door,  but 
you  might  open  a  portmanteau  with  it.  How  much  less 
danger  there  would  be  of  losing  one's  keys  if  there  were 
only  one  to  lose! 

Mrs.  Peterkin  thought  it  would  be  inconvenient  if 
their  father  were  out,  and  she  wanted  to  open  the  jam- 
closet  for  the  little  boys.  But  Agamemnon  explained 
that  he  did  not  mean  there  should  be  but  one  key  ii? 


MODERN  IMPROVEMENTS  AT   THE  PETERKINS'. 

the    family,    or   in   a   town,  —  you   might   have    as   many  as 
you   pleased,    only   they   should   all   be   alike. 

Elizabeth    Eliza     felt    it    would    be   a 
great   convenience, —  they   could    keep   the 
front    door   always   locked,   yet    she    could 
open  it  with  the  key  of  her  upper  drawer; 
that     she     was     sure    to    have     with    her. 
And    Mrs.   Peterkin    felt    it    might    be    a    convenience    if 
they   had   one    on    each    story,    so    that   they   need   not   go 
up   and   down   for   it. 

Mr.  Peterkin  studied  all  the  papers  and  advertise- 
ments, to  decide  about  the  lawyer  whom  they  should  con- 
sult, and  at  last,  one  morning,  they  went  into  town  to 
visit  a  patent-agent. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  took  the  occasion  to  make  a  call 
upon  the  lady  from  Philadelphia,  but  she  came  back 
hurriedly  to  her  mother. 

"I  have  had  a  delightful  call,"  she  said;  w  but  —  per- 
haps I  was  wrong — I  could  not  help,  in  conversation, 
speaking  of  Agamemnon's  proposed  patent.  I  ought  not 
to  have  mentioned  it,  as  such  things  are  kept  profound 
secrets;  they  say  women  always  do  tell  things;  I  suppose 
that  is  the  reason." 

"But  where  is  the  harm?"  asked  Mrs.  Peterkin. 
KFm  sure  you  can  trust  the  lady  from  Philadelphia." 

Elizabeth  Eliza  then  explained  that  the  lady  from 
Philadelphia  had  questioned  the  plan  a  little  when  it  was 
told  her,  and  had  suggested  that  wif  everybody  had 


152 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


the    same    key    there    would    be    no    particular    use    in    a 
lock." 

"  Did  you  explain  to  her,"  said  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin,  "that  we  were  not  all  to  have  the  same 
keys?" 

"I    couldn't    quite     understand     her,"    said 
Elizabeth  Eliza,   "but  she  seemed  to  think  that 
burglars    and   other   people    might   come   in    if 
the   keys   were   the   same." 

"  Agamemnon  would  not  sell  his  patent  to  burglars !  " 
said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  indignantly. 

"But  about  other  people,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza;  "there 
is  my  upper  drawer;  the  little  boys  might  open  it  at 
Christmas-time,  —  and  their  presents  in  it!" 

"And  I  am  not  sure  that  I  could  trust  Amanda,"  said 
Mrs.  Peterkin,  considering. 

Both  she  and  Elizabeth  Eliza  felt  that  Mr.  Peterkin 
ought  to  know  what  the  lady  from  Philadelphia  had  sug- 
gested. Elizabeth  Eliza  then  pro- 
posed going  into  town,  but  it  would 
take  so  long  she  might  not  reach 
them  in  time.  A  telegram  would  be 
better,  and  she  ventured  to  suggest 
using  the  Telegraph  Alarm. 

For,  on  moving  into  their  new 
house,  they  had  discovered  it  was 
provided  with  all  the  modern  im- 
provements. This  had  been  a  disappointment  to  Mrs. 


MODERN  IMPROVEMENTS  AT   THE   PETERKINS'.     153 


Peterkin,  for  she  was  afraid  of  them,  since  their  experience 
the  last  winter,  when  their  water-pipes  were  frozen  up. 
She  had  been  originally  attracted  to  the  house  by  an  old 
pump  at  the  side,  which  had  led  her  to  believe  there  were 
no  modern  improvements.  It  had  pleased  the  little  boys, 
too.  They  liked  to  pump  the  handle  up  and  down,  and 
agreed  to  pump  all  the  water  needed,  and  bring  it  into 
the  house. 

There  was  an  old  well,  with 
a  picturesque  well-sweep,  in  a 
corner  by  the  barn.  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin  was  frightened  by  this  at 
first.  She  was  afraid  the  little 
boys  would  be  falling  in  every 
day.  And  they  showed  great 
fondness  for  pulling  the  bucket  up 
and  down.  It  proved,  however, 
that  the  well  was  dry.  There  was 

no  water  in  it;  so  she  had  some  moss  thrown  down,  and 
an  old  feather-bed,  for  safety,  and  the  old  well  was  a 
favorite  place  of  amusement. 

The  house,  it  had  proved,  was  well  furnished  with 
bath-rooms,  and  "  set-waters "  everywhere.  Water-pipes 
and  gas-pipes  all  over  the  house;  and  a  hack-,  telegraph-, 
and  fire-alarm,  with  a  little  knob  for  each. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  very  anxious.  She  feared  the  little 
boys  would  be  summoning  somebody  all  the  time,  and  it 
was  decided  to  conceal  from  them  the  use  of  the  knobs,  and 


154 


THE  PETERKIN   PAPERS. 


the  card  of  directions  at  the  side  was  destroyed.  Aga- 
memnon had  made  one  of  his  first  inventions  to  help  this. 
He  had  arranged  a  number  of  similar  knobs  to  be  put  in 
rows  in  different  parts  of  the  house,  to  appear  as  if  they 
were  intended  for  ornament,  and  had  added  some  to  the 
original  knobs.  Mrs.  Peterkin  felt  more  secure,  and  Aga- 
memnon thought  of  taking  out  a  patent  for  this  invention. 
It  was,  therefore,  with  some  doubt  that  Elizabeth 
Eliza  proposed  sending  a  telegram  to  her  father.  Mrs. 
Peterkin,  however,  was  pleased  with  the  idea.  Solomon 
John  was  out,  and  the  little  boys  were  at  school,  and  she 
herself  would  touch  the  knob,  while  Elizabeth  Eliza  should 
write  the  telegram. 

w  I  think  it  is  the  fourth  knob  from  the  beginning,"  she 
said,   looking   at  one   of  the   rows   of  knobs. 

Elizabeth   Eliza  was   sure   of   this.      Agamemnon,   she 
believed,   had   put  three   extra  knobs   at  each   end. 

"  But  which  is  the  end, 
and  which  is  the  beginning, 
—  the  top  or  the  bottom?" 
Mrs.  Peterkin  asked  hope- 
lessly. 

Still  she  bravely  se- 
lected a  knob,  and  Eliza- 
beth Eliza  hastened  with 
her  to  look  out  for  the 
messenger.  How  soon 
should  they  see  the  telegraph  boy? 


MODERN  IMPROVEMENTS  AT  THE  PETERKINS'.     155 

They  seemed  to  have  scarcely  reached  the  window, 
when  a  terrible  noise  was  heard,  and  down  the  shady  street 
the  white  horses  of  the  fire-brigade  were  seen  rushing  at 
a  fatal  speed ! 

It   was   a  terrific   moment! 

"  I  have  touched  the  fire-alarm,"  Mrs.  Peterkin  ex- 
claimed. 

Both  rushed  to  open  the  front  door  in  agony.  By 
this  time  the  fire-engines  were  approaching. 

"Do  not  be  alarmed,"  said  the  chief  engineer;  "the 
furniture  shall  be  carefully  covered,  and  we  will  move  all 
that  is  necessary." 

"  Move   again !  "   exclaimed  Mrs.  Peterkin,  in   agony. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  strove  to  explain  that  she  was  only 
sending  a  telegram  to  her  father,  who  was  in  Boston. 

"It  is  not  important,"  said  the  head 
engineer;  "the  fire  will  all  be  out  before  it 
could  reach  him." 

And  he  ran  upstairs,  for  the  engines 
were  beginning  to  play  upon  the  roof. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  rushed  to  the  knobs 
again  hurriedly;  there  was  more  necessity 
for  summoning  Mr.  Peterkin  home. 

T  Write  a  telegram  to  your  father,"  she  said  to  Eliza- 
beth Eliza,  "to  '  come  home  directly.'" 

"That  will  take  but  three  words,"  said  Elizabeth 
Eliza,  with  presence  of  mind,  "and  we  need  ten.  I  was 
just  trying  to  make  them  out." 


156 


THE   PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


"What  has  come   now?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Peterkin,  and 

they  hurried  again  to  the 
window,  to  see  a  row  of 
carriages  coming  down  the 
street. 

"I  must  have   touched 
the     carriage-knob,"     cried 

X    \  Mrs,      Peterkin,      "  and     I 

pushed  it  half-a-dozen  times 
I  felt  so   anxious ! " 

Six  hacks  stood  before  the  door.  All  the  village  boys 
were  assembling.  Even  their  own  little  boys  had  returned 
from  school,  and  were  showing  the  firemen  the  way  to 
the  well. 

Again  Mrs.  Peterkin  rushed  to  the  knobs,  and  a  fear- 
ful sound  arose.  She  had  touched  the  burglar-alarm! 

The    former    owner    of    the    house,   who    had   a   great 
fear  of  burglars,  had  invented  a  machine  of  his  own,  which 
he   had   connected  with   a   knob.     A   wire    attached  to   the 
knob    moved   a   spring    that    could    put  in 
motion    a    number    of    watchmen's    rattles, 
hidden   under   the   eaves   of  the  piazza. 

All   these   were   now  set   a-going,   and 
their  terrible  din  roused  those  of  the  neigh- 
borhood   who    had    not     before     assembled 
around   the   house.     At   this    moment   Elizabeth    Eliza   met 
the   chief  engineer. 

wYou   need    not   send    for   more   help,"   he    said;   "we 


MODERN  IMPROVEMENTS  AT   THE  PETERKINS'.     157 

have  all  the  engines  in  town  here,  and  have  stirred  up 
all  the  towns  in  the  neighborhood;  there's  no  use  in  spring- 
ing any  more  alarms.  I  can't  find  the  fire  yet,  but  we 
have  water  pouring  all  over  the  house." 

Elizabeth  Eliza   waved   her  telegram  in  the   air. 
'  We  are  only  trying  to  send  a  telegram  to  my  father 
and    brother,   who   are    in   town,"    she    endeavored    to    ex- 
plain. 

?'If  it  is  necessary,"  said  the  chief  engineer,  "you 
might  send  it  down  in  one  of  the  hackney  carriages.  1 
see  a  number  standing  before  the  door.  We'd  better  begin 
to  move  the  heavier  furniture,  and  some  of  you  women 
might  fill  the  carriages  with  smaller  things." 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  ready  to  fall  into  hysterics.  She 
controlled  herself  with  a  supreme  power,  and  hastened  to 
touch  another  knob. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  corrected  her  telegram,  and  decided  to 
take  the  advice  of  the  chief  engineer  and  went  to  the 
door  to  give  her  message  to  one  of  the 
hackmen,  when  she  saw  a  telegraph  boy 
appear.  Her  mother  had  touched  the  right 
knob.  It  was  the  fourth  from  the  begin- 
ning; but  the  beginning  was  at  the  other 
end! 

She  went   out  to  meet  the   boy,  when, 
to  her  joy,  she  saw  behind   him   her  father 
and  Agamemnon.     She   clutched  her  telegram,  and  hurried 
toward   them. 


158  THE   PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

Mr.  Peterkin  was  bewildered.  Was  the  house  on  fire? 
If  so,  where  were  the  flames? 

He  saw  the  row  of  carriages.  Was  there  a  funeral, 
or  a  wedding?  Who  was  dead?  Who  was  to  be 
married? 

He  seized  the  telegram  that  Elizabeth  Eliza  reached 
to  him,  and  read  it  aloud. 

"  Come  to  us  directly  —  the  house  is  NOT  on 
fire!" 

The   chief  engineer   was   standing   on   the   steps. 

"The  house  not  on  fire!"  he  exclaimed.  "What  are 
we  all  summoned  for? " 

"It  is  a  mistake,"  cried  Elizabeth  Eliza,  wringing 
her  hands.  '?We  touched  the  wrong  knob;  we  wanted 
the  telegraph  boy !  " 

*We  touched  all  the  wrong  knobs,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Peterkin,  from  the  house. 

The  chief  engineer  turned  directly  to  give  counter- 
directions,  with  a  few  exclamations  of  disgust,  as  the  bells 
of  distant  fire-engines  were  heard  approaching. 

Solomon  John  appeared  at  this  moment,  and  proposed 
taking  one  of  the  carriages,  and  going  for  a  doctor  for 
his  mother,  for  she  was  now  nearly  ready  to  fall  into 
hysterics,  and  Agamemnon  thought  to  send  a  telegram 
down  by  the  boy,  for  the  evening  papers,  to  announce 
that  the  Peterkins'  house  had  not  been  on  fire. 

The  crisis  of  the  commotion  had  reached  its  height. 
The  beds  of  flowers,  bordered  with  dark-colored  leaves. 


MODERN  IMPROVEMENTS  AT   THE  PETERKIN&.     159 

were  trodden  down  by  the  feet  of  the  crowd  that  had 
assembled. 

The  chief  engineer  grew  more  and  more  indignant, 
as  he  sent  his  men  to  order  back  the  fire-engines  from 
the  neighboring  towns.  The  collection  of  boys  followed 
the  procession  as  it  went  away.  The  fire-brigade  hastily 
removed  covers  from  some  of  the  furniture,  restored  the 
rest  to  their  places,  and  took  away  their  ladders.  Many 
neighbors  remained,  but  Mr.  Peterkin  hastened  into  the 
house  to  attend  to  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  took  an  opportunity  to  question  her 
father,  before  he  went  in,  as  to  the  success  of  their 
visit  to  town. 

f  We  saw  all  the  patent- agents,"  answered  Mr.  Peter- 
kin,  in  a  hollow  whisper.  "Not  one  of  them  will  touch 
the  patent,  or  have  anything  to  do  with  it." 

Elizabeth  Eliza  looked  at  Agamemnon,  as  he  walked 
silently  into  the  house.  She  would  not  now  speak  to 
him  of  the  patent;  but  she  recalled  some  words  of  Solo- 
mon John.  When  they  were  discussing  the  patent  he 
had  said  that  many  an  inventor  had  grown  gray  before 
his  discovery  was  acknowledged  by  the  public.  Others 
might  reap  the  harvest,  but  it  came,  perhaps,  only  when 
he  was  going  to  his  grave. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  looked  at  Agamemnon  reverently,  and 
followed  him  silently  into  the  house. 


160 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


AGAMEMNON'S    CAREER. 


HERE  had  apparently  been  some  mis- 
take in  Agamemnon's  education. 
He  had  been  to  a  number  of  col- 
leges, indeed,  but  he  had  never 
completed  his  course  in  any  one. 
He  had  continually  fallen  into  some 
difficulty  with  the  authorities.  It 
was  singular,  for  he  was  of  an  in- 
quiring mind,  and  had  always  tried 

to  find  out  what  would  be  expected  of  him,  but  had  never 

hit  upon  the  right  thing. 

Solomon   John   thought   the   trouble   might   be  in  what 

they   called  the  elective  system,  where  you  were  to    choose 

what   study   you   might   take.     This   had  always  bewildered 

Agamemnon   a  good  deal. 

"And    how   was   a   feller   to   tell,"    Solomon   John    had 

asked,   "whether   he    wanted    to   study   a   thing    before    he 

tried  it?     It  might  turn  out  awful  hard!" 

Agamemnon   had   always   been   fond   of    reading,   from 

his  childhood  up.     He  was  at  his  book  all  day  long.     Mrs. 

Peterkin  had  imagined  he  would  come  out  a  great  scholar, 

because  she  could  never  get  him  away  from  his  books. 


AGAMEMNON'S   CAREER.  161 

And  so  it  was  in  his  colleges;  he  was  always  to  be 
found  in  the  library,  reading  and  reading.  But  they  were 
always  the  wrong  books. 

For  instance:  the  class  were  required  to  prepare  them- 
selves on  the  Spartan  war.  This  turned  Agamemnon's 
attention  to  the  Fenians,  and  to  study  the  subject  he  read 
up  on  w  Charles  O'Malley,"  and  "  Harry  Lorrequer,"  and 
some  later  novels  of  that  sort,  which  did  not  help  him  on 
the  subject  required,  yet  took  up  all  his  time,  so  that  he 
found  himself  unfitted  for  anything  else  when  the  exam- 
inations came.  In  consequence  he  was  requested  to  leave. 

Agamemnon  always  missed  in  his  recitations,  for  the 
same  reason  that  Elizabeth  Eliza  did  not  get  on  in  school, 
because  he  was  always  asked  the  questions  he  did  not 
know.  It  seemed  provoking;  if  the  professors  had  only 
asked  something  else!  But  they  always  hit  upon  the 
very  things  he  had  not  studied  up. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  felt  this  was  encouraging,  for  Aga- 
memnon knew  the  things  they  did  not  know  in  colleges. 
In  colleges  they  were  willing  to  take  for  students  only 
those  who  already  knew  certain  things.  She  thought 
Agamemnon  might  be  a  professor  in  a  college  for  those 
students  who  didn't  know  those  things. 

"  I  suppose  these  professors  could  not  have  known 
a  great  deal,"  she  added,  "or  they  would  not  have  asked 
you  so  many  questions;  they  would  have  told  you  some- 
thing." 

Agamemnon   had   left   another   college   on    account    of 


162  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

a  mistake  he  had  made  with  some  of  his  classmates.  They 
had  taken  a  great  deal  of  trouble  to  bring  some  wood 
from  a  distant  wood-pile  to  make  a  bonfire  with,  under 
one  of  the  professors'  windows.  Agamemnon  had  felt  it 
would  be  a  compliment  to  the  professor. 

It  was  with  bonfires  that  heroes  had  been  greeted 
on  their  return  from  successful  wars.  In  this  way  beacon- 
lights  had  been  kindled  upon  lofty  heights,  that  had  in- 
spired mariners  seeking  their  homes  after  distant  adventures. 
As  he  plodded  back  and  forward  he  imagined  himself 
some  hero  of  antiquity.  He  was  reading  "  Plutarch's  Lives  " 
with  deep  interest.  This  had  been  recommended  at  a 
former  college,  and  he  was  now  taking  it  up  in  the  midst 
of  his  French  course.  He  fancied,  even,  that  some  future 
Plutarch  was  growing  up  in  Lynn,  perhaps,  who  would 
write  of  this  night  of  suffering,  and  glorify  its  heroes. 

For  himself  he  took  a  severe  cold  and  suffered  from 
chilblains,  in  consequence  of  going  back  and  forward 
through  the  snow,  carrying  the  wood. 

But  the  flames  of  the  bonfire  caught  the  blinds  of 
the  professor's  room,  and  set  fire  to  the  building,  and 
came  near  burning  up  the  whole  institution.  Agamem- 
non regretted  the  result  as  much  as  his  predecessor,  who 
gave  him  his  name,  must  have  regretted  that  other  bonfire, 
on  the  shores  of  Aulis,  that  deprived  him  of  a  daughter. 

The  result  for  Agamemnon  was  that  he  was  requested 
to  leave,  after  having  been  in  the  institution  but  a  few 
months. 


AGAMEMNON'S   CAREER.  163 

He  left  another  college  in  consequence  of  a  mis- 
understanding about  the  hour  for  morning  prayers.  He 
went  every  day  regularly  at  ten  o'clock,  but  found,  after- 
ward, that  he  should  have  gone  at  half-past  six.  This 
hour  seemed  to  him  and  to  Mrs.  Peterkin  unseasonable, 
at  a  time  of  year  when  the  sun  was  not  up,  and  he 
would  have  been  obliged  to  go  to  the  expense  of  candles. 

Agamemnon  was  always  willing  to  try  another  college, 
wherever  he  could  be  admitted.  He  wanted  to  attain 
knowledge,  however  it  might  be  found.  But,  after  going 
to  five,  and  leaving  each  before  the  year  was  out,  he 
gave  it  up. 

He  determined  to  lay  out  the  money  that  would 
have  been  expended  in  a  collegiate  education  in  buying 
an  Encyclopaedia,  the  most  complete  that  he  could  find, 
and  to  spend  his  life  studying  it  systematically.  He  would 
not  content  himself  with  merely  reading  it,  but  he  would 
study  into  each  subject  as  it  came  up,  and  perfect 
himself  in  that  subject.  By  the  time,  then,  that 
he  had  finished  the  Encyclopaedia  he  should  have 
embraced  all  knowledge,  and  have  experienced  much 
of  it. 

The    family  were    much  interested   in    this    plan 
of  making   practice    of  every  subject  that  came   up. 

He   did  not,  of  course,  get   on  very  fast  in  this 
way.     In  the  second  column  of  the  very  first  page  he 
met  with  A  as  a  note  in  music.     This  led  him  to  the  study 
of  music.      He  bought  a  flute,  and  took  some  lessons,   and 


164  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

attempted  to  accompany  Elizabeth  Eliza  on  the  piano. 
This,  of  course,  distracted  him  from  his  work  on  the 
Encyclopaedia.  But  he  did  not  wish  to  return  to  A  until 
he  felt  perfect  in  music.  This  required  a  long  time. 

Then  in  this  same  paragraph  a  reference  was  made; 
in  it  he  was  requested  to  "see  Keys."  It  was  neces- 
sary, then,  to  turn  to  "Keys."  This  was  about  the  time 
the  family  were  moving,  which  we  have  mentioned,  when 
the  difficult  subject  of  keys  came  up,  that  suggested  to 
him  his  own  simple  invention,  and  the  hope  of  getting  a 
patent  for  it.  This  led  him  astray,  as  inventions  before 
have  done  with  master-minds,  so  that  he  was  drawn  aside 
from  his  regular  study. 

The  family,  however,  were  perfectly  satisfied  with  the 
career  Agamemnon  had  chosen.  It  would  help  them  all, 
in  any  path  of  life,  if  he  should  master  the  Encyclopedia 
in  a  thorough  way. 

Mr.  Peterkin  agreed  it  would  in  the  end»  be  not  as 
expensive  as  a  college  course,  even  if  Agamemnon  should 
buy  all  the  different  Encyclopaedias  that  appeared.  There 
would  be  no  "  spreads "  involved ;  no  expense  of  receiving 
friends  at  entertainments  in  college;  he  could  live  at 
home,  so  that  it  would  not  be  necessary  to  fit  up  another 
room,  as  at  college.  At  all  the  times  of  his  leaving  he 
had  sold  out  favorably  to  other  occupants. 

Solomon  John's  destiny  was  more  uncertain.  He  was 
looking  forward  to  being  a  doctor  some  time,  but  he 
had  not  decided  whether  to  be  allopathic  or  homoeopathic, 


AGAMEMNON'S    CAREER.  165 

or  whether  he  could  not  better  invent  his  own  pills. 
And  he  could  not  understand  how  to  obtain  his  doctor's 
degree. 

For  a  few  weeks  he  acted  as  clerk  in  a  druggist's 
store.  But  he  could v  serve  only  in  the  tooth-brush  and 
soap  department,  because  it  was  found  he  was  not 
familiar  enough  with  the  Latin  language  to  compound  the 
drugs.  He  agreed  to  spend  his  evenings  in  studying  the 
Latin  grammar;  but  his  course  was  interrupted  by  his 
being  dismissed  for  treating  the  little  boys  too  frequently 
to  soda. 

The  little  boys  were  going  through  the  schools  regu- 
larly. The  family  had  been  much  exercised  with  regard 
to  their  education.  Elizabeth  Eliza  felt  that  everything 
should  be  expected  from  them;  they  ought  to  take  ad- 
vantage from  the  family  mistakes. 
Every  new  method  that  came  up 
was  tried  upon  the  little  boys. 
They  had  been  taught  spelling  by 
all  the  different  systems,  and  were 

just  able  to  read,  when  Mr.  Peterkin  learned  that  it  was 
now  considered  best  that  children  should  not  be  taught 
to  read  till  they  were  ten  years  old. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  in  despair.  Perhaps,  if  their  books 
were  taken  from  them  even  then,  they  might  forget  what 
they  had  learned.  But  no,  the  evil  was  done;  the  brain 
had  received  certain  impressions  that  could  not  be  blurred 
over. 


166  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

This   was   long    ago,   however.       The    little   boys    had 
since   entered   the   public    schools.       They   went   also   to    a 
gymnasium,    and    a    whittling   school,    and    joined    a    class 
in    music,   and    another   in    dancing;    they   went    to     some 
afternoon   lectures   for   children,   when   there   was   no    other 
school,  and   belonged   to   a  walking-club.     Still   Mr.   Peter- 
kin  was  dissatisfied  by  the  slow- 
ness    of    their     progress.        He 
visited   the    schools   himself,   and 
found     that    they    did    not    lead 

their  classes.  It  seemed  to  him  a  great  deal  of  time 
was  spent  in  things  that  were  not  instructive,  such  as 
putting  on  and  taking  off  their  india-rubber  boots. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  proposed  that  they  should  be  taken 
from  school  and  taught  by  Agamemnon  from  the  Encyclo- 
paedia. The  rest  of  the  family  might  help  in  the  educa- 
tion at  all  hours  of  the  day.  Solomon  John  could  take 
up  the  Latin  grammar;  and  she  could  give  lessons  in 
French. 

The  little  boys  were  enchanted  with  the  plan,  only 
they  did  not  want  to  have  the  study-hours  all  the  time. 

Mr.  Peterkin,  however,  had  a  magnificent  idea,  that 
they  should  make  their  life  one  grand  Object  Lesson. 
They  should  begin  at  breakfast,  and  study  everything  put 
upon  the  table,  —  the  material  of  which  it  was  made,  and 
where  it  came  from.  In  the  study  of  the  letter  A,  Aga- 
memnon had  embraced  the  study  of  music,  and  from  one 
meal  they  might  gain  instruction  enough  for  a  day. 


AGAMEMNON'S    CAREER.  167 

"We  shall  have  the  assistance,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin, 
"  of  Agamemnon,  with  his  Encyclopaedia." 

Agamemnon  modestly  suggested  that  he  had  not  yet 
got  out  of  A,  and  in  their  first  breakfast  everything  would 
therefore  have  to  begin  with  A. 

"That  would  not  be  impossible,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin. 
*  There  is  Amanda,  who  will  wait  on  table,  to  start 
with"  — 

:?We  could  have  'am-and-eggs,"  suggested  Solomon 
John. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  distressed.  It  was  hard  enough  to 
think  of  anything  for  breakfast,  and  impossible  if  it  all 
had  to  begin  with  one  letter. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  thought  it  would  not  be  necessary. 
All  they  were  to  do  was  to  ask  questions,  as  in  exam- 
ination papers,  and  find  their  answers  as  they  could.  They 
could  still  apply  to  the  Encyclopaedia, 
even  if  it  were  not  in  Agamemnon's 
alphabetical  course. 

Mr.  Peterkin  suggested  a  great 
variety.  One  day  they  would  study 
the  botany  of  the  breakfast-table;  another  day,  its  natural 
history.  The  study  of  butter  would  include  that  of  the 
cow.  Even  that  of  the  butter-dish  would  bring  in  geology. 
The  little  boys  were  charmed  at  the  idea  of  learning 
pottery  from  the  cream-jug,  and  they  were  promised  a 
potter's  wheel  directly. 

'You    see,  my  dear,"    said    Mr.    Peterkin   to    his  wife, 


168  THE   PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

"before  many   weeks  we   shall   be   drinking   our   milk   from 
jugs   made  by   our   children." 

Elizabeth  Eliza  hoped  for  a  thor- 
ough study. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  "we 
might  begin  with  botany.  That  would 
be  near  to  Agamemnon  alphabetically. 
"We  ought  to  find  out  the  botany 
of  butter.  On  what  does  the  cow 
feed?" 

The   little   boys   were   eager   to   go   out   and   see. 
"If    she    eats    clover,"   said    Mr.    Peterkin,    "we    shall 
expect   the    botany   of  clover." 

The  little  boys  insisted  that  they  were  to  begin  the 
next  day;  that  very  evening  they  should  go  out  and 
study  the  cow. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  sighed,  and  decided  she  would  order 
a  simple  breakfast.  The  little  boys  took  their  note-books 
and  pencils,  and  clambered  upon  the  fence,  where  they 
seated  themselves  in  a  row. 

For  there  were  three  little  boys.  So  it  was  now  sup- 
posed. They  were  always  coming  in  or  going  out,  and 
it  had  been  difficult  to  count  them,  and  nobody  was  very 
sure  how  many  there  were. 

There  they  sat,  however,  on  the  fence,  looking  at  the 
cow.  She  looked  at  them  with  large  eyes. 

"She  won't  eat,"  they  cried,  "while  we  are  looking 
at  her!" 


AGAMEMNON'S   CAEEER. 


169 


So  they  turned  about,  and  pretended  to  look  into  the 
street,  and  seated  themselves  that  way,  turning  their  heads 
back,  from  time  to  time,  to  see  the  cow. 

"Now   she   is   nibbling   a   clover." 

"No,   that   is   a   bit   of  sorrel." 

"It's  a   whole   handful   of  grass." 

"What   kind   of  grass?"   they   exclaimed. 

It  was  very  hard,  sitting  with  their  backs  to  the  cow, 
and  pretending  to  the  cow  that  they  were  looking  into 
the  street,  and  yet  to  be  looking  at  the  cow  all  the  time, 
^and  finding  out  what  she  was  eating;  and  the  upper  rail 
of  the  fence  was  narrow  and  a  little  sharp.  It  was  very 
high,  too,  for  some  additional  rails  had  been  put  on  to 
prevent  the  cow  from  jumping  into  the  garden  or  street. 

Suddenly,  looking  out 
into  the  hazy  twilight, 
Elizabeth  Eliza  saw  six  legs 
and  six  india-rubber  boots 
in  the  air,  and  the  little 
boys  disappeared ! 

"  They  are  tossed  by 
the  cow!  The  little  boys 
are  tossed  by  the  cow ! " 

Mrs.  Peterkin  rushed  for  the  window,  but  fainted  on 
the  way.  Solomon  John  and  Elizabeth  Eliza  were  hurry- 
ing to  the  door,  but  stopped,  not  knowing  what  to  do 
next.  Mrs.  Peterkin  recovered  herself  with  a  supreme 
effort,  and  sent  them  out  to  the  rescue. 


170  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

But  what  could  they  do?  The  fence  had  been  made 
so  high>  to  keep  the  cow  out,  that  nobody  could  get  in. 
The  boy  that  did  the  milking  had  gone  off  with  the  key 
of  the  outer  gate,  and  perhaps  with  the  key  of  the  shed 
door.  Even  if  that  were  not  locked,  before  Agamemnon 
could  get  round  by  the  wood-shed  and  cow-shed,  the  little 
boys  might  be  gored  through  and  through! 

Elizabeth  Eliza  ran  to  the  neighbors,  Solomon  John 
to  the  druggist's  for  plasters,  while  Agamemnon  made 
his  way  through  the  dining-room  to  the  wood-shed  and 
outer-shed  door.  Mr.  Peterkin  mounted  the  outside  of 
the  fence,  while  Mrs.  Peterkin  begged  him  not  to  put 
himself  in  danger.  He  climbed  high  enough  to  view  the 
scene.  He  held  to  the  corner  post  and  reported  what  he 
saw. 

They  were  not  gored.  The  cow  was  at  the  other  end 
of  the  lot.  One  of  the  little  boys  was  lying  in  a  bunch  of 
dark  leaves.  He  was  moving. 

The  cow  glared,  but  did  not  stir.  Another  little  boy 
was  pulling  his  india-rubber  boots  out  of  the  mud.  The 
cow  still  looked  at  him. 

Another  was  feeling  the  top  of  his  head.  The  cow 
began  to  crop  the  grass,  still  looking  at  him. 

Agamemnon  had  reached  and  opened  the  shed-door. 
The  little  boys  were  next  seen  running  toward  it. 

A  crowd  of  neighbors,  with  pitchforks,  had  returned 
meanwhile  with  Elizabeth  Eliza.  Solomon  John  had 
brought  four  druggists.  But,  by  the  time  they  had  reached 


AGAMEMNON'S   CAREER.  171 

the  house,  the  three  little  boys  were  safe  in  the  arms  of 
their  mother! 

"This  is  too  dangerous  a  form  of  education,"  she  cried; 
"I  had  rather  they  went  to  school." 

"  No ! "  they  bravely  cried.  They  were  still  willing 
to  try  the  other  way. 


172 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE    EDUCATIONAL    BREAKFAST. 


ES.  PETEKKIN'S  nerves  were  so  shaken 
by  the  excitement  of  the  fall  of  the 
three  little  boys  into  the  enclosure 
where  the  cow  was  kept  that  the 
educational  breakfast  was  long  post- 
poned. The  little  boys  continued 
at  school,  as  before,  and  the  con- 
versation dwelt  as  little  as  possible  upon  the  subject  of 
education. 

Mrs.  Peterkin's  spirits,  however,  gradually  recovered. 
The  little  boys  were  allowed  to  watch  the  cow  at  her  feed. 
A  series  of  strings  was  arranged  by  Agamemnon  and 
Solomon  John,  by  which  the  little  boys  could  be  pulled 
up,  if  they  should  again  fall  down  into  the  enclosure.  These 
were  planned  something  like  curtain-cords,  and  Solomon 
John  frequently  amused  himself  by  pulling  one  of  the  little 
boys  up  or  letting  him  down. 

Some  conversation  did  again  fall  upon  the  old  difficulty 
of  questions.  Elizabeth  Eliza  declared  that  it  was  not 
always  necessary  to  answer;  that  many  who  could  did  not 
answer  questions,  —  the  conductors  of  the  railroads,  for 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BREAKFAST.  173 

instance,   who  probably   knew   the  names  of  all  the  stations 
on  a  road,  but  were   seldom  able  to  tell  them. 

"  Yes,"  said  Agamemnon,  w  one  might  be  a  conductor 
without  even  knowing  the  names  of  the  stations,  because 
you  can't  understand  them  when  they  do  tell  them!" 

"  I  never  know,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  "  whether  it  is 
ignorance  in  them,  or  unwillingness,  that  prevents  them 
from  telling  you  how  soon  one  station  is  coming,  or  how 
long  you  are  to  stop,  even  if  one  asks  ever  so  many 
times.  It  would  be  so  useful  if  they  would  tell." 

Mrs.  Peterkin  thought  this 
was  carried  too  far  in  the 
horse-cars  in  Boston.  The 
conductors  had  always  left 
you  as  far  as  possible  from 
the  place  where  you  wanted 
to  stop;  but  it  seemed  a  little  too  much  to  have  the 
aldermen  take  it  up,  and  put  a  notice  in  the  cars,  order- 
ing the  conductors  "to  stop  at  the  farthest  crossing." 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was,  indeed,  recovering  her  spirits. 
She  had  been  carrying  on  a  brisk  correspondence  with 
Philadelphia,  that  she  had  imparted  to  no  one,  and  at 
last  she  announced,  as  its  result,  that  she  was  ready  for 
a  breakfast  on  educational  principles. 

A  breakfast  indeed,  when  it  appeared!  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin  had  mistaken  the  alphabetical  suggestion,  and  had 
grasped  the  idea  that  the  whole  alphabet  must  be  rep- 
resented in  one  breakfast. 


174  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

This,  therefore,  was  the  bill  of  fare:  Apple-sauce, 
Bread,  Butter,  Coffee,  Cream,  Doughnuts,  Eggs,  Fish- 
balls,  Griddles,  Ham,  Ice  (on  butter),  Jam,  Krout  (sour), 
Lamb-chops,  Morning  Newspapers,  Oatmeal,  Pepper,  Quince- 
marmalade,  Eolls,  Salt,  Tea  Urn,  Yeal-pie,  Waffles,  Yeast- 
biscuit. 

Mr.  Peterkin  was  proud  and  astonished.  "Excellent!" 
he  cried.  "Every  letter  represented  except  Z."  Mrs. 
Peterkin  drew  from  her  pocket  a  letter  from  the  lady 
from  Philadelphia.  "  She  thought  you  would  call  it 
X-cellent  for  X,  and  she  tells  us,"  she  read,  "that  if 
you  come  with  a  zest,  you  will  bring  the  Z." 

Mr.  Peterkin  was  enchanted.  He  only  felt  that  he 
ought  to  invite  the  children  in  the  primary  schools  to 
such  a  breakfast;  what  a  zest,  indeed,  it  would  give  to 
the  study  of  their  letters! 

It   was    decided   to   begin   with   Apple-sauce. 

"How  happy,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Peterkin,  "that  this 
should  come  first  of  all!  A  child  might  be  brought  up 
on  apple-sauce  till  he  had  mastered  the  first  letter  of 
the  alphabet,  and  could  go  on  to  the  more  involved  sub- 
jects hidden  in  bread,  butter,  baked  beans,  etc." 

Agamemnon  thought  his  father  hardly  knew  how  much 
was  hidden  in  the  apple.  There  was  all  the  story  of 
William  Tell  and  the  Swiss  independence.  The  little  boys 
were  wild  to  act  William  Tell,  but  Mrs.  Peterkin  was 
afraid  of  the  arrows.  Mr.  Peterkin  proposed  they  should 
begin  by  eating  the  apple-sauce,  then  discussing  it,  first 


THE  EDUCATIONAL   BREAKFAST.  175 

botanically,    next   historically;  or   perhaps    first   historically, 
beginning   with   Adam    and   Eve,    and   the    first   apple. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  feared  the  coffee  would  be  getting  cold, 
and  the  griddles  were  waiting.  For  herself,  she  declared 
she  felt  more  at  home  on  the  marmalade,  because  the 
quinces  came  from  grandfather's,  and  she  had  seen  them 
planted;  she  remembered  all  about  it,  and  now  the  bush 
came  up  to  the  sitting-room  window.  She  seemed  to  have 
heard  him  tell  that  the  town  of  Quincy,  where  the  granite 
came  from,  was  named  from  them,  and 
she  never  quite  recollected  why,  except 
they  were  so  hard,  as  hard  as  stone, 
and  it  took  you  almost  the  whole  day 
to  stew  them,  and  then  you  might  as 
well  set  them  on  again. 

Mr.  Peterkin  was  glad  to  be  reminded  of  the  old  place 
at  grandfather's.  In  order  to  know  thoroughly  about 
apples  they  ought  to  understand  the  making  of  cider. 
Now,  they  might  some  time  drive  up  to  grandfather's, 
scarcely  twelve  miles  away,  and  see  the  cider  made.  Why, 
indeed,  should  not  the  family  go  this  very  day  up  to 
grandfather's  and  continue  the  education  of  the  breakfast? 

?  Why  not,  indeed?"  exclaimed  the  little  boys.  A  day 
at  grandfather's  would  give  them  the  whole  process  of  the 
apple,  from  the  orchard  to  the  cider-mill.  In  this  way  they 
could  widen  the  field  of  study,  even  to  follow  in  time  the 
cup  of  coffee  to  Java. 

It    was     suggested,    too,    that    at     grandfather's    they 


176 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


might  study  the    processes   of  maple    syrup    as   involved  in 

the  griddle-cakes. 

Agamemnon  pointed  out  the 
connection  between  the  two  sub- 
jects: they  were  both  the  products 
of  trees,  —  the  apple-tree  and  the 
maple.  Mr.  Peterkin  proposed 
that  the  lesson  for  the  day  should 
be  considered  the  study  of  trees, 
and  on  the  way  they  could  look 
at  other  trees. 

"Why  not,  indeed,  go  this  very  day?  There  was  no 
time  like  the  present.  Their  breakfast  had  been  so  copious 
they  would  scarcely  be  in  a  hurry  for  dinner,  and  would, 
therefore,  have  the  whole  day  before  them. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  could  put  up  the  remains  of  the  break- 
fast for  luncheon. 

But  how  should  they  go?  The  carryall,  in  spite  of 
its  name,  could  hardly  take  the  whole  family,  though  they 
might  squeeze  in  six,  as  the  little  boys  did  not  take  up 
much  room. 

Elizabeth    Eliza    suggested   that   she   could   spend    the 
night   at   grandfather's.     Indeed,    she   had   been   planning  a 
visit   there,    and   would   not   object   to   staying    some    days. 
This   would   make   it   easier  about  coming  home,  but  it  did 
not   settle   the   difficulty   in   getting   there. 
Why   not   "Bide   and  Tie"? 
The  little   boys   were    fond    of    walking;    so  was   Mr 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BREAKFAST.  177 

Peterkin;  and  Agamemnon  and  Solomon  John  did  not 
object  to  their  turn.  Mrs.  Peterkin  could  sit  in  the  car- 
riage, when  it  was  waiting  for  the  pedestrians  to  come 
up;  or,  she  said,  she  did  not  object  to  a  little  turn  of 
walking.  Mr.  Peterkin  would  start,  with  Solomon  John 
and  the  little  boys,  before  the  rest,  and  Agamemnon 
should  drive  his  mother  and  Eliz- 
abeth Eliza  to  the  first  stopping- 
place. 

Then  came  up  another  question, 
—  of  Elizabeth  Eliza's  trunk.  If 
she  stayed  a  few  days  she  would 
need  to  carry  something.  It  might 

be  hot,  and  it  might  be  cold.  Just  as  soon  as  she 
carried  her  thin  things  she  would  need  her  heaviest 
wraps.  You  never  could  depend  upon  the  weather. 
Even  "Probabilities"  got  you  no  farther  than  to-day. 

In  an  inspired  moment  Elizabeth  Eliza  bethought 
herself  of  the  expressman.  She  would  send  her  trunk 
by  the  express,  and  she  left  the  table  directly  to  go  and 
pack  it.  Mrs.  Peterkin  busied  herself  with  Amanda  over 
the  remains  of  the  breakfast.  Mr.  Peterkin  and  Aga- 
memnon went  to  order  the  horse  and  the  expressman, 
and  Solomon  John  and  the  little  boys  prepared  them- 
selves for  a  pedestrian  excursion. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  found  it  difficult  to  pack  in  a  hurry; 
there  were  so  many  things  she  might  want,  and  then 
again  she  might  not.  She  must  put  up  her  music,  because 


178 


THE  PETERKIN   PAPERS. 


her  grandfather  had  a  piano;  and  then  she  bethought 
herself  of  Agamemnon's  flute,  and  decided  to  pick  out 
a  volume  or  two  of  the  Encyclopaedia.  But  it  was  hard 
to  decide,  all  by  herself,  whether  to  take  G  for  griddle- 
cakes,  or  M  for  maple-syrup,  or  T  for  tree.  She  would 
take  as  many  as  she  could  make  room  for.  She  put  up 
her  work-box  and  two  extra  work-baskets,  and  she  must 
take  some  French  books  she  had  never  yet  found  time 
to  read.  This  involved  taking  her  French  dictionary,  as 
she  doubted  if  her  grandfather  had  one.  She  ought  to 
put  in  a  "  Botany,"  if  they  were  to  study  trees ;  but  she 
could  not  tell  which,  so  she  would  take  all  there  were. 
She  might  as  well  take  all  her  dresses,  and  it  was  no 
harm  if  one  had  too  many  wraps.  When  she  had  her 
trunk  packed  she  found  it  over-full;  it  was  difficult  to 

shut  it.  She  had  heard  Solomon 
John  set  out  from  the  front  door 
with  his  father  and  the  little  boys, 
and  Agamemnon  was  busy  holding 
the  horse  at  the  side  door,  so  there 
was  no  use  in  calling  for  help.  She 
got  upon  the  trunk;  she  jumped  upon 
it;  she  sat  down  upon  it,  and,  lean- 
ing over,  found  she  could  lock  it! 
Yes,  it  was  really  locked. 

But,    on   getting    down   from   the 

trunk,  she  found  her  dress  had  been  caught  in  the  lid; 
she  could  not  move  away  from  it!  What  was  worse,  she 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BREAKFAST.  179 

was  so  fastened  to  the  trunk  that  she  could  not  lean 
forward  far  enough  to  turn  the  key  back,  to  unlock  the 
trunk  and  release  herself!  The  lock  had  slipped  easily, 
but  she  could  not  now  get  hold  of  the  key  in  the  right 
way  to  turn  it  back. 

She  tried  to  pull  her  dress  away.  "No,  it  was  caught 
too  firmly.  She  called  for  help  to  her  mother  or  Amanda, 
to  come  and  open  the  trunk.  But  her  door  was  shut. 
Nobody  near  enough  to  hear!  She  tried  to  pull  the  trunk 
toward  the  door,  to  open  it  and  make  herself  heard;  but 
it  was  so  heavy  that,  in  her  constrained  position,  she  could 
not  stir  it.  In  her  agony  she  would  have  been  willing  to 
have  torn  her  dress;  but  it  was  her  travelling  dress,  and 
too  stout  to  tear.  She  might  cut  it  carefully.  Alas,  she 
had  packed  her  scissors,  and  her  knife  she  had  lent  to  the 
little  boys  the  day  before!  She  called  again.  What  silence 
there  was  in  the  house!  Her  voice  seemed  to  echo  through 
the  room.  At  length,  as  she  listened,  she  heard  the  sound 
of  wheels. 

Was  it  the  carriage,  rolling  away  from  the  side  door? 
Did  she  hear  the  front  door  shut?  She  remembered  then 
that  Amanda  was  to  "have  the  day."  But  she,  Elizabeth 
Eliza,  was  to  have  spoken  to  Amanda,  to  explain  to  her 
to  wait  for  the  expressman.  She  was  to  have  told  her  as 
she  went  downstairs.  But  she  had  not  been  able  to  go 
downstairs!  And  Amanda  must  have  supposed  that  all 
the  family  had  left,  and  she,  too,  must  have  gone,  know- 
ing nothing  of  the  expressman.  Yes,  she  heard  the  wheels! 
She  heard  the  front  door  shut! 


180  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

But  could  they  have  gone  without  her?  Then  she 
recalled  that  she  had  proposed  walking  on  a  little  way 
with  Solomon  John  and  her  father,  to  be  picked  up  by 
Mrs.  Peterkin,  if  she  should  have  finished  her  packing  in 
time.  Her  mother  must  have  supposed  that  she  had  done 
so, —  that  she  had  spoken  to  Amanda,  and  started  with 
the  rest.  Well,  she  would  soon  discover  her  mistake. 
She  would  overtake  the  walking  party,  and,  not  finding 
Elizabeth  Eliza,  would  return  for  her.  Patience  only  was 
needed.  She  had  looked  around  for  something  to  read; 
but  she  had  packed  up  all  her  books.  She  had  packed 
her  knitting.  How  quiet  and  still  it  was!  She  tried  to 
imagine  where  her  mother  would  meet  the  rest  of  the 
family.  They  were  good  walkers,  and  they  might  have 
reached  the  two-mile  bridge.  But  suppose  they  should 
stop  for  water  beneath  the  arch  of  the  bridge,  as  they 
often  did,  and  the  carryall  pass  over  it  without  seeing 
them,  her  mother  would  not  know  but  she  was  with 
them?  And  suppose  her  mother  should  decide  to  leave 
the  horse  at  the  place  proposed  for  stopping  and  waiting 
for  the  first  pedestrian  party,  and  herself  walk  on,  no 
one  would  be  left  to  tell  the  rest  when  they  should  come 
up  to  the  carryall.  They  might  go  on  so,  through  the 
whole  journey,  without  meeting,  and  she  might  not  be 
missed  till  they  should  reach  her  grandfather's! 

Horrible  thought!  She  would  be  left  here  alone  all 
day.  The  expressman  would  come,  but  the  expressman 
would  go,  for  he  would  not  be  able  to  get  into  the  house! 

She  thought  of  the   terrible    story   of  Ginevra,    of  the 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BREAKFAST. 


181 


bride  who  was  shut  up  in  her  trunk,  and  forever!  She 
was  shut  up  on  hers,  and  knew  not  when  she  should  be 
released!  She  had  acted  once  in  the  ballad  of  the 
"Mistletoe  Bough."  She  had  been  one  of  the  w  guests," 
who  had  sung  "Oh,  the  Mistletoe  Bough!"  and  had  looked 
up  at  it,  and  she  had  seen  at  the  side-scenes 
how  the  bride  had  laughingly  stepped  into 
the  trunk.  But  the  trunk  then  was  only  a 
make-believe  of  some  boards  in  front  of  a 
sofa,  and  this  was  a  stern  reality. 

It  would  be  late  now  before  her  family 
would  reach  her  grandfather's.  Perhaps 
they  would  decide  to  spend  the  night.  Per- 
haps they  would  fancy  she  was  coming  by 
express.  She  gave  another  .  tremendous 
effort  to  move  the  trunk  toward  the  door. 
All  was  still. 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Peterkin  sat  some  time  at  the  door, 
wondering  why  Elizabeth  Eliza  did  not  come  down.  Mr. 
Peterkin  had  started  on,  with  Solomon  John  and  all  the 

little  boys.  Agamemnon  had 
packed  the  things  into  the 
carriage,  —  a  basket  of  lunch, 
a  change  of  shoes  for  Mr. 
Peterkin,  some  extra  wraps, 
—  every  thin  g  that  Mrs. 

Peterkin     could     think    of   for    the    family    comfort.      Still 
Elizabeth   Eliza   did   not   come.      "I   think  she   must    have 


In    vain. 


182  THE   PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

walked  on  with  your  father,"  she  said,  at  last;  "you  had 
better  get  in."  Agamemnon  now  got  in.  "I  should  think 
she  would  have  mentioned  it,"  she  continued;  "but  we  may 
as  well  start  on,  and  pick  her  up ! "  They  started  off.  "  I 
hope  Elizabeth  Eliza  thought  to  speak  to  Amanda,  but 
we  must  ask  her  when  we  come  up  with  her." 

But  they  did  not  come  up  with  Elizabeth  Eliza.  At 
the  turn  beyond  the  village  they  found  an  envelope  stuck 
up  in  an  inviting  manner  against  a  tree.  In  this  way 
they  had  agreed  to  leave  missives  for  each  other  as  they 
passed  on.  This  note  informed  them  that  the  walking 
party  was  going  to  take  the  short  cut  across  the  meadows, 
and  would  still  be  in  front  of  them.  They  saw  the  party 
at  last,  just  beyond  the  short  cut;  but  Mr.  Peterkin  was 
explaining  the  character  of  the  oak-tree  to  his  children 
as  they  stood  around  a  large  specimen. 

"I  suppose  he  is  telling  them  that  it  is  some  land  of 
a  '  QuercusJ '  said  Agamemnon,  thoughtfully. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  thought  Mr.  Peterkin  would  scarcely 
use  such  an  expression;  but  she  could  see  nothing  of  Eliza- 
beth Eliza.  Some  of  the  party,  however,  were  behind  the 
tree,  some  were  in  front,  and  Elizabeth  Eliza  might  be 
behind  the  tree.  They  were  too  far  off  to  be  shouted  at. 
Mrs.  Peterkin  was  calmed,  and  went  on  to  the  stopping- 
place  agreed  upon,  which  they  reached  before  long.  This 
had  been  appointed  near  Farmer  Gordon's  barn,  that  there 
might  be  somebody  at  hand  whom  they  knew,  in  case  there 
should  be  any  difficulty  in  untying  the  horse.  The  plan 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BREAKFAST.  183 

had  been  that  Mrs.  Peterkin  should  always  sit  in  the  car- 
riage, while  the  others  should  take  turns  for  walking;  and 
Agamemnon  tied  the  horse  to  a  fence,  and  left  her  com- 
fortably arranged  with  her  knitting.  Indeed,  she  had 
risen  so  early  to  prepare  for  the  alphabetical  breakfast, 
and  had  since  been  so  tired  with  preparations,  that  she 
was  quite  -sleepy,  and  would  not  object  to  a  nap  in  the 
shade,  by  the  soothing  sound  of  the  buzzing  of  the  flies. 
But  she  called  Agamemnon  back,  as  he  started  off  for 
his  solitary  walk,  with  a  perplexing  question:  — 

w  Suppose  the  rest  all  should  arrive,  how  could  they 
now  be  accommodated  in  the  carryall?  It  would  be  too 
much  for  the  horse!  Why  had  Elizabeth  Eliza  gone  with 
the  rest  without  counting  up?  Of  course,  they  must  have 
expected  that  she  —  Mrs.  Peterkin  —  would  walk  on  to 
the  next  stopping-place !  " 

She  decided  there  was  no  way  but  for  her  to  walk  on. 
"When  the  rest  passed  her  they  might  make  a  change. 
So  she  put  up  her  knitting  cheerfully.  It  was  a  little 
joggly  in  the  carriage,  she  had  already  found,  for  the 
horse  was  restless  from  the  flies,  and  she  did  not  like 
being  left  alone. 

She  walked  on  then  with  Agamemnon.  It  was  very 
pleasant  at  first,  but  the  sun  became  hot,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  she  was  fatigued.  When  they  reached  a 
hay-field  she  proposed  going  in  to  rest  upon  one  of  the 
hay-cocks.  The  largest  and  most  shady  was  at  the  other 
end  of  the  field,  and  they  were  seated  there  when  the 


184  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

carryall  passed  them  in  the  road.  Mrs.  Peterkin  waved 
parasol  and  hat,  and  the  party  in  the  carryall  returned  their 
greetings;  but  they  were  too  far  apart  to  hear  each  other. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  and  Agamemnon  slowly  resumed  their 
walk. 

*"Well,  we  shall  find  Elizabeth  Eliza  in  the  carry- 
all." she  said,  w  and  that  will  explain  all." 

But  it  took  them  an  hour  or  two  to  reach  the  carry- 
all, with  frequent  stoppings  for  rest,  and  when  they 
reached  it  no  one  was  in  it.  A  note  was  pinned  up 
in  the  vehicle  to  say  they  had  all  walked  on;  it  was 
w  prime  fun." 

In  this  way  the  parties  continued  to  dodge  each 
other,  for  Mrs.  Peterkin  felt  that  she  must  walk  on  from 
the  next  station,  and  the  carryall  missed  her  again  while 
she  and  Agamemnon  stopped  in  a  house  to  rest,  and  for 
a  glass  of  water.  She  reached  the  carryall  to  find  again 
that  no  one  was  in  it.  The  party  had  passed  on  for 
the  last  station,  where  it  had  been  decided  all  should 
meet  at  the  foot  of  grandfather's  hill,  that  they  might 
all  arrive  at  the  house  together.  Mrs.  Peterkin  and  Ap:a- 
memnon  looked  out  eagerly  for  the  party  all  the  way, 
as  Elizabeth  Eliza  must  be  tired  by  this  time;  but  Mrs. 
Peterkin's  last  walk  had  been  so  slow  that  the  other 
party  were  far  in  advance  and  reached  the  stopping- 
place  before  them.  The  little  boys  were  all  rowed  out 
on  the  stone  fence,  awaiting  them,  full  of  delight  at 
having  reached  grandfather's.  Mr.  Peterkin  came  forward 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BREAKFAST.  185 

to  meet  them,  and,  at  the  same  moment  with  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin,  exclaimed:  :c  Where  is  Elizabeth  Eliza?"  Each  party 
looked  eagerly  at  the  other;  no  Elizabeth  Eliza  was  to 
be  seen.  Where  was  she?  What  was  to  be  done?  Was 
she  left  behind?  Mrs.  Peterkin  was  convinced  she  must 
have  somehow  got  to  grandfather's.  They  hurried  up  the 
hill.  Grandfather  and  all  the  family  came  out  to  greet 
them,  for  they  had  been  seen  approaching.  There  was 
great  questioning,  but  no  Elizabeth  Eliza! 

It  was  sunset;  the  view  was  wide  and  fine.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Peterkin  stood  and  looked  out  from  the  north 
to  the  south.  Was  it  too  late  to  send  back  for  Eliza- 
beth Eliza?  Where  was  she? 

Meanwhile  the  little  boys  had  been  informing  the 
family  of  the  object  of  their  visit,  and  while  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Peterkin  were  looking  up  and  down  the  road,  and 
Agamemnon  and  Solomon  John  were  explaining  to  each 
other  the  details  of  their  journeys,  they  had  discovered 
some  facts. 

:rWe  shall  have  to  go  back,"  they  exclaimed.  *We 
are  too  late!  The  maple-syrup  was  all  made  last  spring." 

"We  are  too  early;  we  shall  have  to  stay  two  or 
three  months,  —  the  cider  is  not  made  till  October." 

The  expedition  was  a  failure!  They  could  study  the 
making  of  neither  maple-syrup  nor  cider,  and  Elizabeth 
Eliza  was  lost,  perhaps  forever!  The  sun  went  down, 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peterkin  still  stood  to  look  up  and 
down  the  road. 


186  THE   PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


Elizabeth  Eliza,  meanwhile,  had  sat  upon  her  trunk 
as  it  seemed,  for  ages.  She  recalled  all  the  terrible  stories 
of  prisoners,  —  how  they  had  watched  the  growth  of 
flowers  through  cracks  in  the  pavement.  She  wondered 
how  long  she  could  live  without  eating.  How  thankful 
she  was  for  her  abundant  breakfast! 

At  length  she  heard  the  door-bell.  But  who  could 
go  to  the  door  to  answer  it?  In  vain  did  she  make  an- 
other effort  to  escape;  it  was  impossible! 

How  singular!* — there  were  footsteps.  Some  one  was 
going  to  the  door;  some  one  had  opened  it.  "They 
must  be  burglars."  "Well,  perhaps  that  was  a  better  fate 
- —  to  be  gagged  by  burglars,  and  the  neighbors  informed 
—  than  to  be  forever  locked  on  her  trunk.  The  steps 
approached  the  door.  It  opened,  and  Amanda  ushered  in 
the  expressman. 

Amanda  had  not  gone.  She  had  gathered,  while 
waiting  at  the  breakfast-table,  that  there  was  to  be  an 
expressman  whom  she  must  receive. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  explained  the  situation.  The  express- 
man turned  the  key  of  her  trunk,  and  she  was  released! 

What  should  she  do  next?  So  long  a  time  had 
elapsed  she  had  given  up  all  hope  of  her  family  return- 
ing for  her.  But  how  could  she  reach  them? 

She  hastily  prevailed  upon  the  expressman  to  take 
her  along  until  she  should  come  up  with  some  of  the 
family.  At  least  she  would  fall  in  with  either  the  walk- 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BREAKFAST.  187 

ing  party  or  the  carryall,  or  she  would  meet  them  if 
they  were  on  their  return. 

She  mounted  the  seat  with  the  expressman,  and  slowly 
they  took  their  way,  stopping  for  occasional  parcels  as 
they  left  the  village. 

But,  much  to  Elizabeth  Eliza's  dismay,  they  turned 
off  from  the  main  road  on  leaving  the  village.  She  re- 
monstrated, but  the  driver  insisted  he  must  go  round  by 
Millikin's  to  leave  a  bedstead.  They  went  round  by  Milli- 
kin's, and  then  had  further  turns  to  make.  Elizabeth 
Eliza  explained  that  in  this  way  it  would  be  impossible 
for  her  to  find  her  parents  and  family,  and  at  last  he 
proposed  to  take  her  all  the  way  with  her  trunk.  She 
remembered  with  a  shudder  that  when  she  had  first  asked 
about  her  trunk  he  had  promised  it  should  certainly  be 
delivered  the  next  morning.  Suppose  they  should  have 
to  be  out  all  night?  Where  did  express-carts  spend  the 
night?  She  thought  of  herself  in  a  lone  wood,  in  an 
express- wagon !  She  could  scarcely  bring  herself  to  ask, 
before  assenting,  when  he  should  arrive. 

"He   guessed   he    could   bring   up   before   night." 

And  so  it  happened  that  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peterkin 
in  the  late  sunset  were  looking  down  the  hill,  wondering 
what  they  should  do  about  the  lost  Elizabeth  Eliza,  they 
saw  an  express  wagon  approaching.  A  female  form  sat 
upon  the  front  seat. 

"  She  has  decided  to  come  by  express,"  said  Mrs. 
Peterkin.  "It  is— it  is  — Elizabeth  Eliza!" 


188 


THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 


THE  PETERKINS  AT  THE  "  CARNIVAL  OF 
AUTHORS"  IN  BOSTON. 


HE  Peterking  were  in  quite  a  muddle 
(for  them)  about  the  carnival  of 
authors,  to  be  given  in  Boston.  As 
soon  as  it  was  announced,  their  inter- 
ests were  excited,  and  they  determined 
that  all  the  family  should  go. 

But   they  conceived   a   wrong   idea 

of  the  entertainment,  as  they  supposed  that  every  one  must 
go  in  costume.  Elizabeth  Eliza  thought  their  lessons  in 
the  foreign  languages  would  help  them  much  in  convers- 
ing in  character. 

As  the  carnival  was  announced  early  Solomon  John 
thought  there  would  be  time  to  read  up  everything  written 
by  all  the  authors,  in  order  to  be  acquainted  with  the 
characters  they  introduced.  Mrs.  Peterkin  did  not  wish 
to  begin  too  early  upon  the  reading,  for  she  was  sure  she 
should  forget  all  that  the  different  authors  had  written 
before  the  day  came. 

But  Elizabeth  Eliza  declared  that  she  should  hardly 
have  time  enough,  as  it  was,  to  be  acquainted  with  all  the 


AT    THE   "  CARNIVAL   OF  AUTHORS."  189 

authors.  She  had  given  up  her  French  lessons,  after  tak- 
ing six,  for  want  of  time,  and  had,  indeed,  concluded  she 
had  learned  in  them  all  she  should  need  to  know  of  that 
language.  She  could  repeat  one  or  two  pages  of  phrases, 
and  she  was  astonished  to  find  how  much  she  could  under- 
stand already  of  what  the  French  teacher  said  to  her;  and 
he  assured  her  that  when  she  went  to  Paris  she  could 
at  least  ask  the  price  of  gloves,  or  of  some  other  things 
she  would  need,  and  he  taught  her,  too,  how  to  pronounce 
w  garqon"  in  calling  for  more. 

Agamemnon  thought  that  different  members  of  the 
family  might  make  themselves  familiar  with  different 
authors;  the  little  boys  were  already  acquainted  with 
"  Mother  Goose."  Mr.  Peterkin  had  read  the  w  Pickwick 
Papers,"  and  Solomon  John  had  actually  seen  Mr.  Long- 
fellow getting  into  a  horse-car. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  suggested  that  they  might  ask  the 
Turk  to  give  lectures  upon  the  w  Arabian  Nights."  Every- 
body else  was  planning  something  of  the  sort,  to  w  raise 
funds "  for  some  purpose,  and  she  was  sure  they  ought 
not  to  be  behindhand.  Mrs.  Peterkin  approved  of  this. 
It  would  be  excellent  if  they  could  raise  funds  enough 
to  pay  for  their  own  tickets  to  the  carnival;  then  they 
could  go  every  night. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  was  uncertain.  She  thought  it  was 
usual  to  use  the  funds  for  some  object.  Mr.  Peterkin 
said  that  if  they  gained  funds  enough  they  might  arrange 
a  booth  of  their  own,  and  sit  in  it,  and  take  the  carnival 


190  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

comfortably.  But  Agamemnon  reminded  him  that  none 
of  the  family  were  authors,  and  only  authors  had  booths. 
Solomon  John,  indeed,  had  once  started  upon  writing  a 
book,  but  he  was  not  able  to  think  of  anything  to  put  in 
it,  and  nothing  had  occurred  to  him  yet. 

Mr.  Peterkin  urged  him  to  make  one  more  effort.  If 
his  book  could  come  out  before  the  carnival  he  could  go 
as  an  author,  and  might  have  a  booth  of  his  own,  and 
take  his  family. 

But  Agamemnon  declared  it  would  take  years  to  become 
an  author.  You  might  indeed  publish  something,  but  you 
had  to  make  sure  that  it  would  be  read.  Mrs.  Peterkin, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  certain  that  libraries  were  filled 
with  books  that  never  were  read,  yet  authors  had  written 
them.  For  herself,  she  had  not  read  half  the  books  in 
their  own  library.  And  she  was  glad  there  was  to  be 
a  Carnival  of  Authors,  that  she  might  know  who  they 
were. 

Mr.  Peterkin  did  not  understand  why  they  called 
them  a  w  Carnival " ;  but  he  supposed  they  should  find  out 
when  they  went  to  it. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  still  felt  uncertain  about  costumes.  She 
proposed  looking  over  the  old  trunks  in  the  garret.  They 
would  find  some  suitable  dresses  there,  and  these  would 
suggest  what  characters  they  should  take.  Elizabeth  Eliza 
was  pleased  with  this  thought.  She  remembered  an  old 
turban  of  white  mull  muslin,  in  an  old  bandbox,  and  why 
should  not  her  mother  wear  it? 


AT  THE   "  CARNIVAL    OF  AUTHORS:1 


191 


Mrs.  Peterkin  supposed  that  she  should  then  go  as 
her  own  grandmother. 

Agamemnon  did  not  approve  of  this. 
Turbans  are  now  worn  in  the  East,  and 
Mrs.  Peterkin  could  go  in  some  Eastern 
character.  Solomon  John  thought  she  might 
be  Cleopatra,  and  this  was  determined  on. 
Among  the  treasures  found  were  some  old 
bonnets,  of  large  size,  with  waving  plumes. 
Elizabeth  Eliza  decided  upon  the  largest 
of  these. 

She  was  tempted  to  appear  as  Mrs.  Columbus,  as  Solo- 
mon John  was  to  take  ijie  character  of  Christopher  Colum- 
bus; but   he   was   planning   to    enter    upon   the   stage   in   a 
boat,    and    Elizabeth    Eliza     was    a    little 
afraid  of  sea-sickness,  as  he  had  arranged 
to   be   a   great   while   finding   the   shore. 

Solomon  John  had  been  led  to  take 
this  character  by  discovering  a  coal-hod 
that  would  answer  for  a  helmet;  then,  as 
Christopher  Columbus  was  born  in  Genoa, 
he  could  use  the  phrases  in  Italian  he  had 
lately  learned  of  his  teacher. 

As    the    day    approached    the    family 
had   their   costumes   prepared. 

Mr.  Peterkin  decided  to  be  Peter  the  Great.  It  seemed 
to  him  a  happy  thought,  for  the  few  words  of  Russian  he 
had  learned  would  come  in  play,  and  he  was  quite  sure 


192  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

that  his  own  family  name  made  him  kin  to  that  of  the 
great  Czar.  He  studied  up  the  life  in  the  Encyclopaedia, 
and  decided  to  take  the  costume  of  a  ship-builder.  He 
visited  the  navy -yard  and  some  of  the  docks;  but  none 
of  them  gave  him  the  true  idea  of  dress  for  ship-building 
in  Holland  or  St.  Petersburg.  But  he  found  a  picture  of 
Peter  the  Great,  representing  him  in  a  broad-brimmed  hat. 
So  he  assumed  one  that  he  found  at  a  costumer's,  and  with 
Elizabeth  Eliza's  black  water-proof  was  satisfied  with  his 
own  appearance. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  wondered  if  she  could  not  go  with  her 
father  in  some  Russian  character.  She  would  have  to  lay 
aside  her  large  bonnet,  but  she  had  seen  pictures  of  Eus- 
sian  ladies,  with  fur  muffs  on  their  heads,  and  she  might 
wear  her  own  muff. 

Mrs.  Peterkin,  as  Cleopatra,  wore  the  turban,  with  a 
little  row  of  false  curls  in  front,  and  a  white  embroidered 
muslin  shawl  crossed  over  her  black  silk  dress.  The  little 
boys  thought  she  looked  much  like  the  picture  of  their 
great-grandmother.  But  doubtless  Cleopatra  resembled 
this  picture,  as  it  was  all  so  long  ago,  so  the  rest  of  the 
family  decided.  t 

Agamemnon  determined  to  go  as  Noah.  The  costume, 
as  represented  in  one  of  the  little  boys'  arks,  was  simple. 
His  father's  red-lined  dressing  gown,  turned  inside  out, 
permitted  it  easily. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  was  now  anxious  to  be  Mrs.  Shem, 
and  make  a  long  dress  of  yellow  flannel,  and  appear  with 


AT  THE  "CARNIVAL   OF  AUTHORS."  193 

Agamemnon  and  the  little  boys.  For  the  little  boys  were 
to  represent  two  doves  and  a  raven.  There  were  feather- 
dusters  enough  in  the  family  for  their  costumes,  which 
would  be  then  complete  with  their  india-rubber  boots. 

Solomon  John  carried  out  in  detail  his  idea  of  Chris- 
topher Columbus.  He  had  a  number  of  eggs  boiled  hard 
to  take  in  his  pocket,  proposing  to  repeat,  through  the 
evening,  the  scene  of  setting  the  egg  on  its  end.  He 
gave  up  the  plan  of  a  boat,  as  it  must  be  difficult  to 
carry  one  into  town;  so  he  contented  himself  by  prac- 
tising the  motion  of  landing  by  stepping  up  on  a  chair. 

But  what  scene  could  Elizabeth  Eliza  carry  out? 
If  they  had  an  ark,  as  Mrs.  Shem  she  might  crawl  in 
and  out  of  the  roof  constantly,  if  it  were  not  too  high. 
But  Mr.  Peterkin  thought  it  as  difficult  to  take  an  ark 
into  town  as  Solomon  John's  boat. 

The  evening^  came.  But  with  all  their  preparations 
they  got  to  the  hall  late.  The  entrance  was  filled  with 
a  crowd  of  people,  and,  as  they  stopped  at  the  cloak- 
room, to  leave  their  wraps,  they  found  themselves  en- 
tangled with  a  number  of  people  in  costume  coming  out 
from  a  dressing-room  below.  Mr.  Peterkin  was  much 
encouraged.  They  were  thus  joining  the  performers.  The 
band  was  playing  the  "Wedding  March"  as  they  went 
upstairs  to  a  door  of  the  hall  which  opened  upon  one 
side  of  the  stage.  Here  a  procession  was  marching  up 
the  steps  of  the  stage,  all  in  costume,  and  entering  be- 
hind the  scenes. 


194  THE    PETERKIN   PAPERS. 


are  just  in  the  right  time,"  whispered  Mr. 
Peterkin  to  his  family;  "they  are  going  upon  the  stage; 
we  must  fall  into  line." 

The   little   boys     had   their   feather-dusters    ready. 

Some  words  from  one  of  the  managers  made  Mr0 
Peterkin  understand  the  situation. 

'  We  are  going  to  be  introduced  to  Mr.  Dickens," 
he  said. 

"I  thought  he  was  dead!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Peterkin, 
trembling. 

w  Authors  live  forever  !  "  said  Agamemnon  in  her 
ear. 

At   this   moment   they   were   ushered   upon    the    stage. 

The  stage  manager  glared  at  them,  as  he  awaited 
their  names  for  introduction,  while  they  came  up  all 
unannounced,  —  a  part  of  the  programme  not  expected. 
But  he  uttered  the  words  upon  his  lip^,  "Great  Expec- 
tations ;  "  and  the  Peterkin  family  swept  across  the  stage 
with  the  rest:  Mr.  Peterkin  costumed  as  Peter  the  Great, 
Mrs.  Peterkin  as  Cleopatra,  Agamemnon  as  ]SToah,  Solo- 
mon John  as  Christopher  Columbus,  Elizabeth  Eliza  in 
yellow  flannel  as  Mrs.  Shem,  with  a  large,  old-fashioned 
bonnet  on  her  head  as  Mrs.  Columbus,  and  the  little 
boys  behind  as  two  doves  and  a  raven. 

Across  the  stage,  in  face  of  all  the  assembled  people, 
then  following  the  rest  down  the  stairs  on  the  other  side, 
in  among  the  audience,  they  went;  but  into  an  audience 
not  dressed  in  costume! 


AT   THE    "  CARNIVAL    OF  AUTHORS."  195 

There  were  Ann  Maria  Bromwick  and  the  Osbornes, 
• —  all  the  neighbors,  —  all  as  natural  as  though  they  were 
walking  the  streets  at  home,  though  Ann  Maria  did  wear 
white  gloves. 

"I  had  no  idea  you  were  to  appear  in  character," 
said  Ann  Maria  to  Elizabeth  Eliza;  "to  what  booth  do 
you  belong?" 

*  We    are    no    particular    author,"    said    Mr.    Peterkin. 

"  Ah,  I  see,  a  sort  of  varieties'  booth,"  said  Mr. 
Osborne. 

"  What  is  your  character? "  asked  Ann  Maria  of 
Elizabeth*  Eliza. 

"I  have  not  quite  decided,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza, 
"I  thought  I  should  find  out  after  I  came  here.  The 
marshal  called  us  '  Great  Expectations.'" 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  at  the  summit  of  bliss.  "I  have 
shaken  hands  with  Dickens!"  she  exclaimed. 

But  she  looked  round  to  ask  the  little  boys  if  they, 
too,  had  shaken  hands  with  the  great  man,  but  not  a 
little  boy  could  she  find. 

They  had  been  swept  off  in  Mother  Goose's  train, 
which  had  lingered  on  the  steps  to  see  the  Dickens  re- 
ception, with  which  the  procession  of  characters  in  costume 
had  closed.  At  this  moment  they  were  dancing  round 
the  barberry  bush,  in  a  corner  of  the  balcony  in  Mother 
Goose's  quarters,  their  feather-dusters  gayly  waving  in 
the  air. 

But   Mrs.   Peterkin,    far  below,  could  not  see  this,  and 


196  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

consoled  herself  with  the  thought,  they  should  all  meet 
on  the  stage  in  the  grand  closing  tableau.  She  was 
bewildered  by  the  crowds  which  swept  her  hither  and 
thither.  At  last  she  found  herself  in  the  Whittier  Booth, 
and  sat  a  long  time  calmly  there.  As  Cleopatra  she 
seemed  out  of  place,  but  as  her  own  grandmother  she 
answered  well  with  its  JSTew  England  scenery. 

Solomon  John  wandered  about,  landing  in  America 
whenever  he  found  a  chance  to  enter  a  booth.  Once 
before  an  admiring  audience  he  set  up  his  egg  in  the 
centre  of  the  Goethe  Booth,  which  had  been  deserted  by 
its  committee  for  the  larger  stage. 

Agamemnon  frequently  stood  in  the  background  of 
scenes  in  the  Arabian  Nights. 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  the  family  could  be  re- 
pressed from  going  on  the  stage  whenever  the  bugle 
sounded  for  the  different  groups  represented  there. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  came  near  appearing  in  the  w  Dream 
of  Fair  Women,"  at  its  most  culminating  point. 

Mr.  Peterkin  found  himself  with  the  w  Cricket  on  the 
Hearth,"  in  the  Dickens  Booth.  He  explained  that  he 
was  Peter  the  Great,  but  always  in  the  Russian  language, 
which  was  never  understood. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  found  herself,  in  turn,  in  all  the 
booths.  Every  manager  was  puzzled  by  her  appearance, 
and  would  send  her  to  some  other,  and  she  passed  along, 
always  trying  to  explain  that  she  had  not  yet  decided 
upon  her  character. 


AT  THE   "  CARNIVAL   OF  AUTHORS."  197 

Mr.  Peterkin  came  and  took  Cleopatra  from  the  Whit- 
tier  Booth. 

w  I  cannot  understand,"  he  said,  w  why  none  of  our 
friends  are  dressed  in  costume,  and  why  we  are." 

"I  rather  like  it,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  w though  I 
should  be  better  pleased  if  I  could  form  a  group  with 
some  one." 

The  strains  of  the  minuet  began.  Mrs.  Peterkin 
was  anxious  to  join  the  performers.  It  was  the  dance  of 
her  youth. 

But  she  was  delayed  by  one  of  the  managers  on  the 
steps  that  led  to  the  stage. 

"I  cannot  understand  this  company,"  he  said,  dis- 
tractedly. 

"  They  cannot  find  their  booth,"  said  another. 

w  That  is  the  case,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  relieved  to  have 
it  stated. 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  pass  into  the  corridor,"  said 
a  polite  marshal. 

They  did  this,  and,  walking  across,  found  themselves 
in  the  refreshment-room.  "  This  is  the  booth  for  us,"  said 
Mr.  Peterkin. 

"  Indeed  it  is,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  sinking  into  a  chair, 
exhausted. 

At  this  moment  two  doves  and  a  raven  appeared, — 
the  little  boys,  who  had  been  dancing  eagerly  in  Mother 
Goose's  establishment^  and  now  came  down  for  ice-cream. 

WI    hardly    know    how    to    sit   down,"    said    Elizabeth 


198  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

Eliza,  "for  I  am  sure  Mrs.   Shem  never  could.     Still,  as  I 
do  not  know  if  I  am  Mrs.   Shem,  I  will  venture  it." 

Happily,  seats  were  to  be  found  for  all,  and  they  were 
soon  arranged  in  a  row,  calmly  eating  ice-cream. 

"I  think  the  truth  is,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin,  "that  we 
represent  historical  people,  and  we  ought  to  have  been 
fictitious  characters  in  books.  That  is,  I  observe,  what  the 
others  are.  We  shall  know  better  another  time." 

"If  we  only  ever  get  home,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  "I 
shall  not  wish  to  come  again.  It  seems  like  being  on  the 
stage,  sitting  in  a  booth,  and  it  is  so  bewildering,  Eliza- 
beth Eliza  not  knowing  who  she  is,  and  going  round  and 
round  in  this  way." 

"I  am  afraid  we  shall  never  reach  home,"  said  Aga- 
memnon, who  had  been  silent  for  some  time;  "we  may 
have  to  spend  the  night  here.  I  find  I  have  lost  our 
checks  for  our  clothes  in  the  cloak-room ! " 

"Spend  the  night  in  a  booth,  in  Cleopatra's  turban!" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

".We  should  like  to  come  every  night,"  cried  the 
little  boys. 

*  But   to   spend   the    night,"   repeated   Mrs.   Peterkin. 

"I  conclude  the  Carnival  keeps  up  all  night,"  said 
Mr.  Peterkin. 

"But  never  to  recover  our  cloaks,"  said  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin;  "could  not  the  little  boys  look  round  for  the  checks 
on  the  floors?" 

She    began    to    enumerate    the   many  valuable    things 


AT  THE   "  CARNIVAL   OF  AUTHORS."  199 

that  they  might  never  see  again.  She  had  worn  her 
large  fur  cape  of  stone-marten, — her  grandmother's, — that 
Elizabeth  Eliza  had  been  urging  her  to  have  made  into 
a  foot-rug.  Now  how  she  wished  she  had!  And  there 
were  Mr.  Peterkin's  new  overshoes,  and  Agamemnon  had 
brought  an  umbrella,  and  the  little  boys  had  their  mittens. 
Their  india-rubber  boots,  fortunately,  they  had  on,  in  the 
character  of  birds.  But  Solomon  John  had  worn  a  fur 
cap,  and  Elizabeth  Eliza  a  muff.  Should  they  lose  all 
these  valuables  entirely,  and  go  home  in  the  cold  with- 
out them?  No,  it  would  be  better  to  wait  till  every- 
body had  gone,  and  then  look  carefully  over  the  floors 
for  the  checks;  if  only  the  little  boys  could  know  where 
Agamemnon  had  been,  they  were  willing  to  look.  Mr. 
Peterkin  was  not  sure  as  they  would  have  time  to  reach 
the  train.  Still,  they  would  need  something  to  wear, 
and  he  could  not  tell  the  time.  He  had  not  brought  his 
watch.  It  was  a  Waltham  watch,  and  he  thought  it 
would  not  be  in  character  for  Peter  the  Great  to  wear  it. 

At  this  moment  the  strains  of  "  Home,  Sweet  Home " 
were  heard  from  the  band,  and  people  were  seen  pre- 
paring to  go. 

"All  can  go  home,  but  we  must  stay,"  said  Mrs. 
Peterkin,  gloomily,  as  the  well-known  strains  floated  in 
from  the  larger  hall. 

A  number  of  marshals  came  to  the  refreshment-room, 
looked  at  them,  whispered  to  each  other,  as  the  Peter- 
kins  sat  in  a  row. 


200  THE  PETE  REIN  PAPERS. 

w  Can  we  do  anything  for  you  ? "  asked  one  at  last. 
"Would  you  not  like  to  go?"  He  seemed  eager  they 
should  leave  the  room. 

Mr.  Peterkin  explained  that  they  could  not  go,  as 
they  had  lost  the  checks  for  their  wraps,  and  hoped  to 
find  their  checks  on  the  floor  when  everybody  was  gone. 
The  marshal  asked  if  they  could  not  describe  what  they 
had  worn,  in  which  case  the  loss  of  the  checks  was  not 
so  important,  as  the  crowds  had  now  almost  left,  and  it 
would  not  be  difficult  to  identify  their  wraps.  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin  eagerly  declared  she  could  describe  every  article. 

It  was  astonishing  how  the  marshals  hurried  them 
through  the  quickly  deserted  corridors,  how  gladly  they 
recovered  their  garments!  Mrs.  Peterkin,  indeed,  was  dis- 
turbed by  the  eagerness  of  the  marshals;  she  feared  they 
had  some  pretext  for  getting  the  family  out  of  the  hall. 
Mrs.  Peterkin  was  one  of  those  who  never  consent  to  be 
forced  to  anything.  She  would  not  be  compelled  to  go 
home,  even  with  strains  of  music.  She  whispered  her  sus- 
picions to  Mr.  Peterkin;  but  Agamemnon  came  hastily  up 
to  announce  the  time,  which  he  had  learned  from  the 
clock  in  the  large  hall.  They  must  leave  directly  if  they 
wished  to  catch  the  latest  train,  as  there  was  barely  time 
to  reach  it. 

Then,  indeed,  was  Mrs.  Peterkin  ready  to  leave.  If 
they  should  miss  the  train!  If  she  should  have  to  pass 
the  night  in  the  streets  in  her  turban!  She  was  the  first 
to  lead  the  way,  and,  panting,  the  family  followed  her, 


AT  THE  "  CARNIVAL   OF  AUTHORS."  201 

just  in  time  to  take  the  train  as  it  was  leaving  the 
station. 

The  excitement  was  not  yet  over.  They  found  in  the 
train  many  of  their  friends  and  neighbors,  returning  also 
from  the  Carnival;  so  they  had  many  questions  put  to 
them  which  they  were  unable  to  answer.  Still  Mrs. 
Peterkin's  turban  was  much  admired,  and  indeed  the  whole 
appearance  of  the  family ;  so  that  they  felt  themselves 
much  repaid  for  their  exertions. 

But  more  adventures  awaited  them.  They  left  the 
train  with  their  friends;  but  as  Mrs.  Peterkin  and  Eliza- 
beth Eliza  were  very  tired,  they  walked  very  slowly,  and 
Solomon  John  and  the  little  boys  were  sent  on  with  the 
pass-key  to  open  the  door.  They  soon  returned  with  the 
startling  intelligence  that  it  was  not  the  right  key,  and 
they  could  not  get  in.  It  was  Mr.  Peterkin's  office-key; 
he  had  taken'  it  by  mistake,  or  he  might  have  dropped 
the  house-key  in  the  cloak-room  of  the  Carnival. 

"Must  we  go  back?"  sighed  Mrs.  Peterkin,  in  an 
exhausted  voice.  More  than  ever  did  Elizabeth  Eliza 
regret  that  Agamemnon's  invention  in  keys  had  failed  to 
secure  a  patent! 

It  was  impossible  to  get  into  the  house,  for  Amanda 
had  been  allowed  to  go  and  spend  the  night  with  a 
friend,  so  there  was  no  use  in  ringing,  though  the  little 
boys  had  tried  it. 

:?"We  can  return  to  the  station,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin; 
"the  rooms  will  be  warm,  on  account  of  the  midnight 


202  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

train.       We     can,      at     least,     think    what    we     shall     do 
next." 

At  the  station  was  one  of  their  neighbors,  proposing 
to  take  the  New  York  midnight  train,  for  it  was  now 
after  eleven,  and  the  train  went  through  at  half-past. 

"  I  saw  lights  at  the  locksmith's  over  the  way,  as  I 
passed,"  he  said;  "why  do  not  you  send  over  to  the  young 
man  there?  He  can  get  your  door  open  for  you.  I  never 
would  spend  the  night  here." 

Solomon  John  went  over  to  "the  young  man,"  who 
agreed  to  go  up  to  the  house  as  soon  as  he  had  closed 
the  shop,  fit  a  key,  and  open  the  door,  and  come  back 
to  them  on  his  way  home.  Solomon  John  came  back  to 
the  station,  for  it  was  now  cold  and  windy  in  the  deserted 
streets.  The  family  made  themselves  as  comfortable  as 
possible  by  the  stove,  sending  Solomon  John  out  occa- 
sionally to  look  for  the  young  man.  But  somehow  Solo- 
mon John  missed  him;  the  lights  were  out  in  the  lock- 
smith's shop,  so  he  followed  along  to  the  house,  hoping 
to  find  him  there.  But  he  was  not  there!  He  came  back 
to  report.  Perhaps  the  young  man  had  opened  the  door 
and  gone  on  home.  Solomon  John  and  Agamemnon  went 
back  together,  but  they  could  not  get  in.  Where  was 
the  young  man?  He  had  lately  come  to  town,  and  nobody 
knew  where  he  lived,  for  on  the  return  of  Solomon  John 
and  Agamemnon  it  had  been  proposed  to  go  to  the  house 
of  the  young  man.  The  night  was  wearing  on.  The 
midnight  train  had  come  and  gone.  The  passengers  who 


AT  THE   «  CARNIVAL   OF  AUTHORS." 


203 


came  and  went  looked  with  wonder  at  Mrs.  Peterkin,  nod- 
ding in  her  turban,  as  she  sat  by  the  stove,  on  a  corner 
of  a  long  bench.  At  last  the  station-master  had  to  leave, 
for  a  short  rest.  He  felt  obliged  to  lock  up  the  station, 
but  he  promised  to  return  at  an  early  hour  to  release 
them. 

"Of  what  use,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  "if  we  cannot 
even  then  get  into  our  own  house?" 

Mr.  Peterkin  thought  the  matter  appeared  bad,  if  the 
locksmith  had  left  town.  He  feared  the  young  man  might 
have  gone  in,  and  helped  himself  to  spoons,  and  left. 
Only  they  should  have  seen  him  if  he  had  taken  the  mid- 
night train.  Solomon  John  thought  he  appeared  honest. 
Mr.  Peterkin  only  ventured  to  whisper  his  suspicions,  as 
he  did  not  wish  to  arouse  Mrs.  Peterkin,  who  still  was 
nodding  in  the  corner  of  the  long  bench. 

Morning  did   come   at  last.     The   family  decided  to  go 
to     their     home;     perhaps     by 
some   effort   in   the    early    day- 
light  they  might   make  an  en- 
trance. 

On  the  way  they  met  with 
the  night-policeman,  returning 
from  his  beat.  He  stopped 
when  he  saw  the  family. 

"Ah!     that   accounts,"    he 

said;  "you  were  all  out  last  night,  and  the  burglars  took 
occasion  to  make  a  raid  on  your  house.  I  caught  a  lively 


204  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

young  man  in  the  very  act;  box  of  tools  in  his  hand! 
If  I  had  been  a  minute  late  he  would  have  made  his 
way  in"  — 

The   family   then   tried   to   interrupt  —  to    explain — 

*  Where  is  he?"  exclaimed  Mr.   Peterkin. 

"Safe  in  the  lock-up,"   answered   the  policeman. 

"  But  he  is  the  locksmith ! "  interrupted  Solomon  John0 

"We  have  no  key!"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza;  "if  you 
have  locked  up  the  locksmith  we  can  never  get  in." 

The  policeman  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  smiling 
slightly  when  he  understood  the  case. 

"The  locksmith!"  he  exclaimed;  "he  is  a  new  fellow, 
and  I  did  not  recognize  him,  and  arrested  him!  Very 
well,  I  will  go  and  let  him  out,  that  he  may  let  you  in ! " 
and  he  hurried  away,  surprising  the  Peterkin  family  with 
what  seemed  like  insulting  screams  of  laughter. 

"It  seems  to  me  a  more  serious  case  than  it  appears 
to  him,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  did  not  understand  it  at  all.  Had 
burglars  entered  the  house?  Did  the  policeman  say  they 
had  taken  spoons?  And  why  did  he  appear  so  pleased? 
She  -was  sure  the  old  silver  teapot  was  locked  up  in  the 
closet  of  their  room.  Slowly  the  family  walked  towards 
the  house,  and,  almost  as  soon  as  they,  the  policeman 
appeared  with  the  released  locksmith,  and  a  few  boys 
from  the  street,  who  happened  to  be  out  early. 

The  locksmith  was  not  in  very  good  humor,  and 
took  ill  the  jokes  of  the  policeman.  Mr.  Peterkin,  fear- 


AT  THE   "  CARNIVAL   OF  AUTHORS."  205 

ing  he  might  not  consent  to  open  the  door,  pressed  into 
his  hand  a  large  sum  of  money.  The  door  flew  open; 
the  family  could  go  in.  Amanda  arrived  at  the  same 
moment.  There  was  hope  of  breakfast.  Mrs.  Peterkin 
staggered  towards  the  stairs.  w  I  shall  never  go  to  an- 
other Carnival!"  she  exclaimed. 

B 


206 


THE   PETERKIN   PAPERS, 


THE    PETERKINS    AT   THE    FARM. 


ES,  at  last  they  had  reached  the  sea- 
side, after  much  talking  and  delibera- 
tion, and  summer  after  summer  the 
journey  had  been  constantly  postponed. 
But  here  they  were  at  last,  at  the 
"Old  Farm,"  so  called,  where  seaside 
attractions  had  been  praised  in  all  the 
advertisements.  And  here  they  were  to 
meet  the  Sylvesters,  who  knew  all  about  the  place,  cousins 
of  Ann  Maria  Bromwick.  Elizabeth  Eliza  was  astonished 
not  to  find  them  there,  though  she  had  not  expected 
Ann  Maria  to  join  them  till  the  very  next  day. 

Their  preparations  had  been  so  elaborate  that  at  one 
time  the  whole  thing  had  seemed  hopeless;  yet  here  they 
all  were.  Their  trunks,  to  be  sure,  had  not  arrived;  but 
the  wagon  was  to  be  sent  back  for  them,  and,  wonder- 
ful to  tell,  they  had  all  their  hand-baggage  safe. 

Agamemnon  had  brought  his  Portable  Electrical  Ma- 
chine and  Apparatus,  and  the  volumes  of  the  Encyclo- 
paedia that  might  tell  him  how  to  manage  it,  and  Solo- 
mon John  had  his  photograph  camera.  The  little  boys 


THE  PETERKINS  AT   THE  FARM. 


207 


had  used  their  india-rubber  boots  as  portmanteaux,  filling 
them  to  the  brim,  and  carrying  one  in  each  hand,  —  a 
very  convenient  way  for  travelling  they  considered  it; 
but  they  found  on  arriving  (when  they  wanted  to  put 
their  boots  directly  on,  for  exploration  round  the  house), 
that  it  was  somewhat  inconvenient  to  have  to  begin  to 
unpack  directly,  and  scarcely  room  enough  could  be  found 
for  all  the  contents  in  the  small  chamber  allotted  to 
them. 

There  was  no  room  in  the  house  for  the  electrical 
machine  and  camera.  Elizabeth  Eliza  thought  the  other 
boarders  were  afraid  of  the  machine  going  off;  so  an 
out-house  was  found  for  them,  where  Agamemnon  and 
Solomon  John  could  arrange  them. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  much  pleased  with  the  old-fashioned 
porch  and  low-studded  rooms,  though  the  sleeping-rooms 
seemed  a  little  stuffy  at  first. 

Mr.  Peterkin 
was  delighted 
with  the  admira- 
b  1  e  order  i  n 
which  the  farm 
was  evidently 
kept.  From  the 
first  moment  he 
arrived  he  gave 

himself  to  examining  the  well-stocked  stables  and  barns, 
and  the  fields  and  vegetable  gardens,  which  were  shown 


208  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

to  him  by  a  highly  intelligent  person,  a  Mr.  Atwood,  who 
devoted  himself  to  explaining  to  Mr.  Peterkin  all  the 
details  of  methods  in  the  farming. 

The  rest  of  the  family  were  disturbed  at  being  so 
far  from  the  sea,  when  they  found  it  would  take  nearly 
all  the  afternoon  to  reach  the  beach.  The  advertisements 
had  surely  stated  that  the  "Old  Farm"  was  directly  on 
the  shore,  and  that  sea-bathing  would  be  exceedingly 
convenient;  which  was  hardly  the  case  if  it  took  you  an 
hour  and  a  half  to  walk  to  it. 

Mr.  Peterkin  declared  there  were  always  such  dis- 
crepancies between  the  advertisements  of  seaside  places 
and  the  actual  facts;  but  he  was  more  than  satisfied  with 
the  farm  part,  and  was  glad  to  remain  and  admire  it, 
while  the  rest  of  the  family  went  to  find  the  beach,  start- 
ing off  in  a  wagon  large  enough  to  accommodate  them, 
Agamemnon  driving  the  one  horse. 

Solomon  John  had  depended  upon  taking  the  photo- 
graphs of  the  family  in  a  row  on  the  beach;  but  he 
decided  not  to  take  his  camera  out.  the  first  after- 
noon. 

This  was  well,  as  the  sun  was  already  setting  when 
they  reached  the  beach. 

"  If  this  wagon  were  not  so  shaky,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin, 
"we  might  drive  over  every  morning  for  our  bath.  The 
road  is  very  straight,  and  I  suppose  Agamemnon  can  turn 
on  the  beach." 

should   have   to  spend   the  whole   day  about   it," 


THE  PETERKINS  AT   THE  FARM.  209 

said  Solomon  John,  in  a  discouraged  tone,  "unless  we 
can  have  a  quicker  horse." 

"  Perhaps  we  should  prefer  that,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza, 
a  little  gloomily,  "to  staying  at  the  house." 

She  had  been  a  little  disturbed  to  find  there  were  not 
more  elegant  and  fashionable-looking  boarders  at  the  farm, 
and  she  was  disappointed  that  the  Sylvesters  had  not  arrived, 
who  would  understand  the  ways  of  the  place.  Yet,  again, 
she  was  somewhat  relieved,  for  if  their  trunks  did  not 
come  till  the  next  day,  as  was  feared,  she  should  have 
nothing  but  her  travelling  dress  to  wear,  which  would  cer- 
tainly answer  for  to-night. 

She  had  been  busy  all  the  early  summer  in  preparing 
her  dresses  for  this  very  watering-place,  and,  as  far  as 
appeared,  she  would  hardly  need  them,  and  was  disap- 
pointed to  have  no  chance  to  display  them.  But  of 
course,  when  the  Sylvesters  f  and  Ann  Maria  came,  all 
would  be  different^  but  they  would  surely  be  wasted  on 
the  two  old  ladies  she  had.  seen,  and  on  the  old  men  who 
had  lounged  about  the  porch;  there  surely  was  not  a 
gentleman  among  them. 

Agamemnon  assured  her  she  could  not  tell  at  the 
seaside,  as  gentlemen  wore  their  exercise  dress,  and  took 
a  pride  in  going  around  in  shocking  hats  and  flannel 
suits.  Doubtless  they  would  be  dressed  for  dinner  on 
their  return. 

On  their  arrival  they  had  been  shown  to  a  room  to 
have  their  meals  by  themselves,  and  could  not  decide 


210  THE  PETEttKIN  PAPERS. 

whether  they  were  eating  dinner  or  lunch.  There  was  a 
variety  of  meat,  vegetables,  and  pie,  that  might  come 
under  either  name;  but  Mr.  and  Mrs0  Peterkin  were  well 
pleased. 

"I  had  no  idea  we  should  have  really  farm- fare,"  Mrs. 
Peterkin  said.  fc  I  have  not  drunk  such  a  tumbler  of  milk 
since  I  was  young." 

Elizabeth  Eliza  concluded  they  ought  not  to  judge 
from  a  first  meal,  as  evidently  their  arrival  had  not  been 
fully  prepared  for,  in  spite  of  the  numerous  letters  that 
had  been  exchanged. 

The  little  boys  were,  however,  perfectly  satisfied  from 
the  moment  of  their  arrival,  and  one  of  them  had  stayed 
at  the  farm,  declining  to  go  to  the  beach,  as  he  wished  to 
admire  the  pigs,  cows,  and  horses;  and  all  the  way  over 
to  the  beach  the  other  little  boys  were  hopping  in  and 
out  of  the  wagon,  which  never  went  too  fast,  to  pick 
long  mullein-stalks,  for  whips  to  urge  on  the  reluctant  horse 
with,  or  to  gather  huckleberries,  with  which  they  were 
rejoiced  to  find  the  fields  were  filled,  although,  as  yet, 
the  berries  were  very  green. 

They  wanted  to  stay  longer  on  the  beach,  when  they 
finally  reached  it;  but  Mrs.  Peterkin  and  Elizabeth  Eliza 
insisted  upon  turning  directly  back,  as  it  was  not  fair  to 
be  late  to  dinner  the  very  first  night. 

On  the  whole  the  party  came  back  cheerful,  yet  hungry. 
They  found  the  same  old  men,  in  the  same  costume,  stand- 
ing against  the  porch. 


THE  PETERKINS  AT  THE  FARM.  211 

"  A  little  seedy,  I  should  say/'  said  Solomon  John. 

"Smoking  pipes,"  said  Agamemnon;  "I  believe  that 
is  the  latest  style." 

"  The  smell  of  their  tobacco  is  not  very  agreeable," 
Mrs.  Peterkin  was  forced  to  say. 

There  seemed  the  same  uncertainty  on  their  arrival 
as  to  where  they  were  to  be  put,  and  as  to  their  meals. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  tried  to  get  into  conversation  with  the 
old  ladies,  who  were  wandering  in  and  out  of  a  small 
sitting-room.  But  one  of  them  was  very  deaf,  and  the 
other  seemed  to  be  a  foreigner.  She  discovered  from  a 
moderately  tidy  maid,  by  the  name  of  Martha,  who  seemed 
a  sort  of  factotum,  that  there  were  other  ladies  in  their 
rooms,  too  much  of  invalids  to  appear. 

"Regular  bed-ridden,"  Martha  had  described  them, 
which  Elizabeth  Eliza  did  not  consider  respectful. 

Mr.  Peterkin  appeared  coming  down  the  slope  of  the 
hill  behind  the  house,  very  cheerful.  He  had  made  the 
tour  of  the  farm,  and  found  it  in  admirable  order. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  felt  it  time  to  ask  Martha  about  the 
next  meal,  and  ventured  to  call  it  supper,  as  a  sort  of 
compromise  between  dinner  and  tea.  If  dinner  were  ex- 
pected she  might  offend  by  taking  it  for  granted  that 
it  was  to  be  "tea,"  and  if  they  were  unused  to  a  late 
dinner  they  might  be  disturbed  if  they  had  only  provided 
a  "tea." 

So  she  asked  what  was  the  usual  hour  for  supper, 
and  was  surprised  when  Martha  replied,  "The  lady  must 


212  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

say,"  nodding  to  Mrs.  Peterkin.  "  She  can  have  it  just 
when  she  wants,  and  just  what  she  wants!" 

This    was   an  unexpected   courtesy. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  asked  when  the  others  had  their 
supper. 

"Oh,  they  took  it  a  long  time  ago,"  Martha  answered. 
"If  the  lady  will  go  out  into  the  kitchen  she  can  tell 
what  she  wants." 

"Bring  us  in  what  you  have,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin, 
himself  quite  hungry.  "If  you  could  cook  us  a  fresh 
slice  of  beefsteak  that  would  be  well." 

"Perhaps    some   eggs,"   murmured   Mrs.   Peterkin. 

"Scrambled,"    cried   one   of  the   little   boys. 

"Fried  potatoes  would  not  be  bad,"  suggested  Aga- 
memnon. 

"Couldn't  we  have  some  onions?"  asked  the  little  boy 
who  had  stayed  at  home,  and  had  noticed  the  odor  of 
onions  when  the  others  had  their  supper. 

"  A  pie   would   come   in   well,"  said   Solomon   John. 

"And  some  stewed  cherries,"  said  the  other  little  boy. 

Martha  fell  to  laying  the  table,  and  the  family  was 
much  pleased,  when,  in  the  course  of  time,  all  the  dishes 
they  had  recommended  appeared.  Their  appetites  were 
admirable,  and  they  pronounced  the  food  the  same. 

"  This  is  true  Arab  hospitality,"  said  Mr.  Peterkin, 
as  he  cut  his  juicy  beefsteak. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  whose  spirits  began 
to  rise.  "We  have  not  even  seen  the  host  and  hostess.7* 


THE  PETERKINS  AT  THE  FARM.  213 

She  would,  indeed,  have  been  glad  to  find  some  one 
to  tell  her  when  the  Sylvesters  were  expected,  and  why 
they  had  not  arrived.  Her  room  was  in  the  wing,  far 
from  that  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peterkin,  and  near  the  aged  deaf 
and  foreign  ladies,  and  she  was  kept  awake  for  some  time 
by  perplexed  thoughts. 

She  was  sure  the  lady  from  Philadelphia,  under  such 
circumstances,  would  have  written  to  somebody.  But 
ought  she  to  write  to  Ann  Maria  or  the  Sylvesters?  And, 
if  she  did  write,  which  had  she  better  write  to?  She 
fully  determined  to  write,  the  first  thing  in  the  morning, 
to  both  parties.  But  how  should  she  address  her  letters? 
Would  there  be  any  use  in  sending  to  the  Sylvesters' 
usual  address,  which  she  knew  well  by  this  time,  merely 
to  say  they  had  not  come?  Of  course  the  Sylvesters 
would  know  they  had  not  come.  It  would  be  the  same 
with  Ann  Maria.  She  might,  indeed,  inclose  her  letters 
to  their  several  postmasters.  Postmasters  were  always 
so  obliging,  and  always  knew  where  people  were  going 
to,  and  where  to  send  their  letters.  She  might,  at  least, 
write  two  letters,  to  say  that  they  —  the  Peterkins  —  had 
arrived,  and  were  disappointed  not  to  find  the  Sylvesters. 
And  she  could  add  that  their  trunks  had  not  arrived, 
and  perhaps  their  friends  might  look  out  for  them  on 
their  way.  It  really  seemed  a  good  plan  to  write.  Yet 
another  question  came  up,  as  to  how  she  would  get  her 
letters  to  the  post-office,  as  she  had  already  learned  it 
was  at  quite  a  distance,  and  in  a  different  direction  from 


214  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

the  station,  where  they  were  to  send  the  next  day  for 
their  trunks. 

She  went  over  and  over  these  same  questions,  kept 
awake  by  the  coughing  and  talking  of  her  neighbors,  the 
other  side  of  the  thin  partition. 

She  was  scarcely  sorry  to  be  aroused  from  her  un- 
comfortable sleep  by  the  morning  sounds  of  guinea-hens, 
peacocks,  and  every  other  kind  of  fowl. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  expressed  her  satisfaction  at  the  early 
breakfast,  and  declared  she  was  delighted  with  such  genu- 
ine farm  sounds. 

They  passed  the  day  much  as  the  afternoon  before, 
reaching  the  beach  only  in  time  to  turn  round  to  come 
back  for  their  dinner,  which  was  appointed  at  noon.  Mrs. 
Peterkin  was  quite  satisfied.  "  Such  a  straight  road,  and 
the  beach  such  a  safe  place  to  turn  round  upon!  " 

Elizabeth  Eliza  was  not  so  well  pleased.  A  wagon 
had  been  sent  to  the  station  for  their  trunks,  which 
could  not  be  found;  they  were  probably  left  at  the 
Boston  station,  or,  Mr.  Atwood  suggested,  might  have 
been  switched  off  upon  one  of  the  White  Mountain  trains. 
There  was  no  use  to  write  any  letters,  as  there  was  no 
way  to  send  them.  Elizabeth  Eliza  now  almost  hoped 
the  Sylvesters  would  not  come,  for  what  should  she  do 
if  the  trunks  did  not  come  and  all  her  new  dresses? 
On  her  way  over  to  the  beach  she  had  been  thinking  what 
she  should  do  with  her  new  foulard  and  cream-colored 
surah  if  the  Sylvesters  did  not  come,  and  if  their  time 


THE   PETER  KINS  AT   THE  FARM.  215 

was  spent  in  only  driving  to  the  beach  and  back.  But  now, 
she  would  prefer  that  the  Sylvesters  would  not  come  till 
the  dresses  and  the  trunks  did.  All  she  could  find  out, 
from  inquiry,  on  returning,  was,  "that  another  lot  was 
expected  on  Saturday."  The  next  day  she  suggested :  — • 

"  Suppose  we  take  our  dinner  with  us  to  the  beach, 
and  spend  the  day."  The  Sylvesters  and  Ann  Maria  then 
would  find  them  on  the  beach,  where  her  travelling-dress 
would  be  quite  appropriate.  "I  am  a  little  tired,"  she 
added,  "of  going  back  and  forward  over  the  same  road; 
but  when  the  rest  come  we  can  vary  it." 

The  plan  was  agreed  to,  but  Mr.  Peterkin  and  the 
little  boys  remained  to  go  over  the  farm  again. 

They  had  an  excellent  picnic  on  the  beach,  under  the 
shadow  of  a  ledge  of  sand.  They  were  just  putting  up 
their  things  when  they  saw  a  party  of  people  approach- 
ing from  the  other  end  of  the  beach. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  some  pleasant-looking  people  at 
last,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  and  they  all  turned  to  walk 
toward  them. 

As  the  other  party  drew  near  she  recognized  Ann 
Maria  Bromwick !  And  with  her  were  the  Sylvesters,  —  so 
they  proved  to  be,  for  she  had  never  seen  them  before. 

"What!  you  have  come  in  our  absence!"  exclaimed 
Elizabeth  Eliza. 

"  And  we  have  been  wondering  what  had  become 
of  you !  "  cried  Ann  Maria. 

"I   thought   you   would    be    at    the    farm    before    us," 


216  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

said  Elizabeth  Eliza  to  Mr.  Sylvester,  to  whom  she  was 
introduced. 

:?We  have  been  looking  for  you  at  the  farm,"  he  was 
saying  to  her. 

"But  we  are  at  the  farm,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza. 

"  And  so  are  we !  "  said  Ann  Maria. 

*We  have  been  there  two  days,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

"And  so  have  we,  at  the  'Old  Farm,'  just  at  the  end 
of  the  beach,"  said  Ann  Maria. 

"Our  farm  is  old  enough,"  said  Solomon  John. 

?  Whereabouts  are  you? "  asked  Mr.  Sylvester. 

Elizabeth  Eliza  pointed  to  the  road  they  had  come. 

A  smile  came  over  Mr.  Sylvester's  face;  he  knew  the 
country  well. 

*You  mean  the  farm-house  behind  the  hill,  at  the 
end  of  the  road?"  he  asked. 

The  Peterkins  all  nodded  affirmatively. 

Ann  Maria  could  not  restrain  herself,  as  broad  smiles 
came  over  the  faces  of  all  the  party. 

*  Why,  that  is  the  Poor-house !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"The  town  farm,"  Mr.  Sylvester  explained,  depre- 
catingly. 

The  Peterkins  were  silent  for  a  while.  The  Sylvesters 
tried  not  to  laugh. 

"?  There  certainly  were  some  disagreeable  old  men 
and  women  there ! "  said  Elizabeth  Eliza,  at  last. 

"But  we  have  surely  been  made  very  comfortable," 
Mrs.  Peterkin  declared. 


THE  PETERKINS  AT   THE  FARM.  217 

"A  very  simple  mistake,"  said  Mr.  Sylvester,  con- 
tinuing his  amusement.  <  Your  trunks  arrived  all  right 
at  the  'Old  Farm,'  two  days  ago." 

"Let  us  go  back  directly,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza. 

"As  directly  as  our  horse  will  allow,"  said  Aga- 
memnon. 

Mr.  Sylvester  helped  them  into  the  wagon.  f  Your 
rooms  are  awaiting  you,"  he  said.  c  Why  not  come  with 
us?" 

:?  We  want  to  find  Mr.  Peterkin  before  we  do  anything 
else,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin. 

They  rode  back  in  silence,  till  Elizabeth  Eliza  said, 
"Do  you  suppose  they  took  us  for  paupers?" 

*  We  have  not  seen  any  '  they,' "  said  Solomon  John, 
"except  Mr.  Atwood." 

At  the  entrance  of  the  farm-yard  Mr.  Peterkin  met 
them. 

"I  have  been  looking  for  you,"  he  said.  "I  have  just 
made  a  discovery." 

"We  have  made  it,  too,"  said  Elizabeth  Eliza;  "we 
are  in  the  poor-house." 

"How  did  you  find  it  out?"  Mrs.  Peterkin  asked  of 
Mr.  Peterkin. 

"Mr.  Atwood  came  to  me,  puzzled  with  a  telegram 
that  had  been  brought  to  him  from  the  station,  which  he 
ought  to  have  got  two  days  ago.  It  came  from  a  Mr. 
Peters,  whom  they  were  expecting  here  this  week,  with 
his  wife  and  boys,  to  take  charge  of  the  establishment. 


218  THE  PETERKIN  PAPERS. 

He  telegraphed  to  say  he  cannot  come  till  Friday.  Now, 
Mr.  Atwood  had  supposed  we  were  the  Peterses,  whom 
he  had  sent  for  the  day  we  arrived,  not  having  received 
this  telegram." 

"Oh,  I  see,  I  see!"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin;  "and  we  did 
get  into  a  muddle  at  the  station!" 

Mr.  Atwood  met  them  at  the  porch.  "I  beg  pardon," 
he  said.  "I  hope  you  have  found  it  comfortable  here, 
and  shall  be  glad  to  have  you  stay  till  Mr.  Peters' 
family  comes." 

At  this  moment  wheels  were  heard.  Mr.  Sylvester 
had  arrived,  with  an  open  wagon,  to  take  the  Peterkins 
to  the  -"Old  Farm." 

Martha  was  waiting  within  the  door,  and  said  to 
Elizabeth  Eliza,  "Beg  pardon,  miss,  for  thinking  you  was 
one  of  the  inmates,  and  putting  you  in  that  room.  We 
thought  it  so  kind  of  Mrs.  Peters  to  take  you  off  every 
day  with  the  other  gentlemen,  that  looked  so  wandering." 

Elizabeth  Eliza  did  not  know  whether  to  laugh  or 
to  cry. 

Mr.  Peterkin  and  the  little  boys  decided  to  stay  at 
the  farm  till  Friday.  But  Agamemnon  and  Solomon 
John  preferred  to  leave  with  Mr.  Sylvester,  and  to  take 
their  electrical  machine  and  camera  when  they  came  for 
Mr.  Peterkin. 

Mrs.  Peterkin  was  tempted  to  stay  another  night,  to 
be  wakened  once  more  by  the  guinea-hens.  But  Eliza- 
beth Eliza  bore  her  off.  There  was  not  much  packing  to 


THE  PETERKINS  AT    THE  FARM.  219- 

be  done.  She  shouted  good-by  into  the  ears  of  the  deaf 
old  lady,  and  waved  her  hand  to  the  foreign  one,  and 
glad  to  bid  farewell  to  the  old  men  with  their  pipes, 
leaning  against  the  porch. 

"This  time,"  she  said,  "it  is  not  our  trunks  that 
were  lost"  — 

"But   we,   as   a  family,"   said  Mrs.   Peterkin. 


77? 


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